Interview with CNBC on the success of Spain’s infrastructure companies abroad.
http://www.cnbc.com/id/102780072.

Even before Spain’s crisis and despite some notable political, economic and social achievements, the country’s image abroad and within Spain was out of sync with reality. This situation worsened during the recession, which is now over, but the old stereotypes about Spain as a country of little more than flamenco, bullfights, fiestas and siestas persist.

Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy promised during his trip to China last year to shorten the time it takes to approve visas for Chinese tourists. Epitomising the stereotypes that have long characterised Spain, the English-language China Daily illustrated its article on visas with a bull being fought by a ‘flamenco dancer’, which it confused with a matador.

The crisis has clearly dented the country’s image. Yet the perception, for many, is the reality.

The massive rise in unemployment, largely as a result of the collapse of the real estate and construction sectors, which generated a disproportionate share of GDP, hogs the headlines and obscures the achievements since the transition to democracy, most of which have not been eroded.

These achievements include multinationals with leading positions in the global economy (the stock of Spanish investment abroad is higher than Italy’s), the world’s ninth largest stock of inward foreign direct investment, the successful absorbing of some 6 million immigrants over the past 20 years (some of them are returning) and the longest life expectancy in the European Union (testament to the creation of a welfare system and the generally healthier diet).

Flamenco, bullfighting and fiestas are fine to promote the tourism industry as it plays a vital role in the economy (generating around 12% of GDP and employing roughly one in every 10 people), particularly at a time of high unemployment. Close to 30% of Japanese respondents in a recent survey spontaneously associated the word ‘Spain’ with bulls and almost 20% with flamenco.

Yet Spain also needs a more ‘serious’ image in order to boost exports and make the country known for other achievements and not just as a fun playground.

A report published by the Spain Image Observatory of the Real Instituto Elcano, based on surveys in the form of questions by the Reputation Institute in 57 countries, compares data on the reality of Spain with that corresponding to how it is perceived abroad. The results show that in some areas there is a significant gap between the image and the reality.

For example, Spain’s participation in peace missions is ranked 18th in the perception ranking and 11th according to data produced by the International Institute for Strategic Studies – a gap of seven places. In foreign direct investment in Spain, the distance is nine places as Spain is ranked 20th and 11th in the respective rankings. By far the largest gap (19 places) is in the sphere of happiness (emotional wellbeing): Spain is ranked 11th by the Reputation Institute and 30th according to the UN’s World Happiness Report which attempts to measure this state with ‘objective’ data.

The big distance in the degree of happiness in Spain as perceived by foreigners and the reality as confirmed by Spaniards reflects the sorry state of the Spanish economy, particularly unemployment, but also the tendency of Spaniards to be much more pessimistic about their country than foreigners (and also much more optimistic when the going is good). Furthermore, while the view of Spain abroad has improved over the last two years, within Spain it has worsened.

Elcano’s report identifies various areas where Spain’s public and private sectors need to concentrate their efforts in order for Spain to be better appreciated abroad. In all of them, the reality is much better than the image abroad and so there is room to improve the perception of Spain. These areas include culture, personal security (Spain is the sixth safest country in the world), foreign direct investment, attractiveness for foreign students, exports and recognised brands.

In only two areas, government effectiveness and lifestyle, is Spain’s image better than the reality.

One problem is that Spain needs to speak with one voice. However, its 17 autonomous regions pull in different directions – one of them, Catalonia, is pushing for independence – and this creates confusion abroad

It is not easy for Spain to change its image and improve the perception of the nation brand. The country is viewed in surveys as ‘hot’ (creative, passionate and not very serious), as opposed to ‘cold’ (efficient, rigorous and serious) like Germany and the UK. The ‘hot’ image benefits the flourishing tourism industry, but not many other parts of the economy, and the way the country is perceived abroad.

Chile was so determined to impress upon the world its ‘coldness’ that it shipped a 60-tonne iceberg to Seville in 1992, and made it the centrepiece of its World’s Fair pavilion.

Spain does not have to go to such extremes, but it needs to be more proactive.

Last Sunday’s elections in 13 of Spain’s 17 regions (except for Andalusia, Catalonia, Galicia and the Basque Country) and in 8,100 halls confirmed the change in the mould of politics in post-Franco Spain, dominated at the national level by the Socialists and the conservative Popular Party since 1982. Two new parties, the leftist Podemos and the centrist market-friendly Ciudadanos, took away votes from the Socialists and the PP and also from United Left (the revamped communist party) and UPyD. This ushered in a new era of four parties, which will change the shape of Spanish politics.

The PP gained 27% of the votes cast in the municipal elections, down from 37.5% in 2011, and the Socialists won 25% (27.8% in 2011). Between them they captured 52% of the vote, compared with 65.3% in 2011 and 73.4% in the 2011 general election. The PP drew a crumb of comfort from still being the most voted party, but not by very much. The party, as hoped, did not reap any political dividends from the economic recovery. It lost 2.4 million votes as against the Socialists’ loss of 670,000.

The PP lost its absolute majorities in eight of the 13 regions that held elections including Madrid and Valencia, its two fiefdoms, where it has been badly damaged by a spate of corruption scandals. The PP also failed to win another absolute majority in Madrid’s municipal elections and could lose control of the town hall, after 24 years, if the Socialists back Podemos, which ran under the banner of the Ahora Madrid coalition and won only one fewer seats than the PP. The battle in Madrid was between two grandmothers, the 63-year-old PP stalwart Esperanza Aguirre and the 71-year-old Manuela Carmena, a retired Supreme Court judge and human rights activist for Ahora Madrid.
In her communist days during the Franco dictatorship Carmena co-founded the labour lawyers’ office, which was attacked in 1977 by right wing extremists who shot dead five of her colleagues.

The other significant victory for the anti-austerity Podemos was in Barcelona and also for another charismatic woman, Ada Colau, a 41-year-old anti-eviction activist. She snatched control of the town hall from the nationalist CiU by winning 11 of the 41 seats (25% of the vote), but will need to form alliances in order to govern. Her victory in the Catalan capital was a blow for the independence movement. The Republican Left of Catalonia (ERC), the most pro-independence party, only won 11% of the city’s vote.

The results of Ciudadanos did not live up to expectations. While Podemos’s support had been waning, that for Ciudadanos was continuously rising. Like Podemos, however, Ciudadanos will be the kingmaker in some areas, particularly those where the PP won the most votes but not an absolute majority. Until two years ago, Ciudadanos was hardly known outside its base in Catalonia where it was formed in 2006 to counter, among other things, the growing movement for that region’s independence.

Overall, the results confirmed what the opinion polls have been saying for some time now: Spain’s two-party system is set to take a beating in a four horse race when a general election is held by the end of this year.

Whereas the 2011 municipal and regional elections saw landslide victories by the PP in cities and heralded its routing of the Socialists in that year’s general elections, this time round the municipal and regional elections suggest a very fragmented parliament when the next general election is held by the end of the year.

An extrapolation of the municipal results shows a national parliament with the PP holding 132 of the 350 seats, 54 fewer than now, the Socialists with 119 (nine more), Podemos 16 and five other parties including Ciudadanos with between 10 and 14 seats each. If this proves to be the case, the national parliament could well face the same deadlock as in Andalusia where the Socialists won the March 22 snap election in that region but more than two months later have still been unable to form a majority government after three attempts.

In order to better understand the current political situation, you need to know something about the current state of play in Spain’s economic crisis triggered by the contagion from the subprime mortgage crisis in the US and its impact on Spain’s unsustainable economic model, excessively based on bricks and mortar. The number of housing starts in Spain in 2006, at the height of the illusionary boom, was 865,000 – more than Germany, France and Italy combined. The massive property bubble burst in 2008 – house prices have fallen by more than 35% since then. The number of housing starts plummeted to 35,000 last year. Today, Spain has around 500,000 unsold new homes – roughly the equivalent of two years’ shortfall in the UK- as against one million when the crisis broke. While this country has a dearth of housing, Spain has a glut. Perhaps a deal could be struck between the two countries, under which Spain would ship its empty homes to the UK in return for the UK returning Gibraltar to Spain.

A typical example of the property fiasco was the Residencial Francisco Hernando near Madrid, which was intended to triple the population of Seseña in the dry plains of Castile with 13,500 flats. Billed as the Manhattan of La Mancha, the home region of Don Quixote, only around 2,500 had been sold by the time the property bubble burst. Mr. Hernando, the developer, was as deluded as Don Quixote.

The credit-fuelled construction madness was not only confined to the building of houses. Too many airports were also built during the decade-long economic fiesta when the country lived beyond its means. Take the emblematic case of Castellón, one of several ghost airports. Carlos Fabra, a Popular Party cacique, opened the airport in 2011 even though it did not have all the permits to operate. Amazing as it may sound, he justified this on the grounds that “anyone who wants can visit the runway, the terminal and the control tower and walk around them, something they could not do if aircraft were taking off.”

There is a 24 metre high copper statue to Fabra at the entrance to the airport. The Popular Party leader Mariano Rajoy had lauded Fabra in 2008 as “an exemplary citizen and politician”, words he lived to regret after becoming prime minister at the end of 2011. Ryanair will begin to operate the first scheduled flights in four years from Castellón in September. Fabra is serving a four year jail sentence for tax fraud: his case took a staggering 10 years to come to trial, epitomising another problem – the snail’s pace at which the politicized judiciary moves.

Credit was cheap, thanks to Spain belonging to the euro zone. At one stage interest rates were negative as Spain’s inflation was higher than the cost of borrowing, encouraging people and companies to borrow as if there was no tomorrow. The one size fits all monetary policy of the European Central Bank was not appropriate for Spain.

With the collapse of the property sector with its big knock-on effect and massive unemployment, loan defaults soared. The non-performing loans of all of Spain’s banks jumped from a negligible 0.7% of total credit in 2006 to a peak of 13.6%, and that figure excludes the toxic property assets of bailed out banks placed in the “bad bank” known as Sareb, which made a loss of €585 million last year.

Many of Spain’s 42 savings banks, known as cajas, – were mortally wounded by the bursting of the property bubble. Regionally based, not listed on the stock market and run by boards packed with political appointees, they fell over one another to make loans. Their number has been reduced to eight today. The collapse of Bankia, the fourth largest bank and the product of the merger of seven ailing cajas, led to a €42 billion EU bailout, which was exited last year.

When the lopsided economy went into recession in 2009 jobs began to be shed almost as quickly as they had been created. Those of you who know your Spanish history will remember that the influx of silver and gold from Spain’s colonies in the 17th century ruined the economy, as it lulled the country into a false sense of financial security, stoked inflation and caused the currency to appreciate. The latter day and illusory variant of this wealth was the construction sector.

Spain’s construction sector was also the equivalent of the massive discovery of North Sea oil by Holland in 1959 that led to the expression Dutch disease. Over dependence on the booming construction sector lured labour away from other potentially more sustainable sectors such as manufacturing, fuelled domestic demand and so sucked in imports and eroded competitiveness and hence exports.

The jobless rate soared from a post-Franco historic low of 8% in 2007 (a high rate by UK standards but in Spain regarded as full employment) to a peak of 26% in 2013 and today has inched down to around 23%. Four Spanish regions out of a total of 272 in the European Union are among the 10 regions with the highest unemployment rates. Of the 3.5 million jobs lost since 2008, 1.7 million came from the construction sector alone. You may well ask what holds Spain together. The short answer is the extended family and the informal economy.

As the economy roared along, so more and more students dropped out of school at 16 when they completed their basic obligatory education to work in construction. During the boom, the salaries of unskilled labour rose at a much faster rate than those of skilled workers. If education does not pay why stay on at school?

In 2009, the early school-leaving rate peaked at 31% of those aged between 18 and 24, more than double the European Union average. The rate was on a downward trend until the year 2000. The figure is now 22%, still very high. Students have no option but to stay on at school.

Not only is unemployment still very high, but also 20.7% of those aged between 15 and 29 are not in employment, education or training. In 2012, this figure was 26%. These neets as they are called form a “lost generation”. They are so poorly qualified that their prospects of finding meaningful employment are slim, and the creation of a more knowledge-based economy is something of a pipedream.

Construction-related corruption has been rife among politicians, especially at the municipal level with re-zoning and building permits, fertile ground for greasing palms. It is no coincidence that the regions with the most intense construction booms, such as the former PP-controlled Valencia, were the ones where corruption flourished the most. More than 800 town halls (10% of the total) today are under investigation and several thousand people have been accused in corruption cases.

Corruption has been particularly rampant in Valencia, where the PP still won the most votes but far from an absolute majority. Around 50 indicted politicians sought re-election in that region, even as they prepared to appear before courts in cases mostly related to the mishandling of public money, despite the PP leader of Valencia, Alberto Fabra, drawing what he called a ‘red line’ under years of corruption. In one notorious case, Alfonso Rus, was suspended from the PP three weeks before the election after a tape was released in which he was heard talking about commissions for the building of social housing and counting money. Rus defied the PP and ran for re-election as mayor of Xàtiva and was beaten by the Socialists.

Spain finally fell into line with the rest of the European Union at the end of last year when its first ever Transparency Law came into effect. The new law – almost 40 years after the end of the Franco dictatorship – only operates at the state level (it will be extended to municipal and regional levels, where most corruption occurs, this December).

The construction boom lured more than 4 million foreigners to Spain between 1998 and 2008. No other country in Europe received so many immigrants per capita in the 10 years before the crisis. When I first came to Spain in 1974 I was one of 165,000 foreigners. Today, I am one of 5 million, and that figure excludes naturalised Spaniards. Spain’s foreign-born population represents around 11% of the total population, almost the same as the UK, but Spain, to its credit, does not have a UKIP style party.

The Popular Party, which ousted the Socialists at the end of 2011, has implemented the severest austerity measures in Spain’s post-Franco democracy. It has raised income tax and VAT rates, in order to reduce the budget deficit, and injected more flexibility into a still rigid labour market. As in this country, spending cuts are weakening the welfare state. The annual rise in pension payments is no longer linked to inflation and the retirement age is gradually being put back from 65 to 67. This is a sensible reform: Spaniards are living longer (the average life expectancy is 83 years, one year more than we Brits).

The economy is finally growing – by around 2.9% this year, higher than the UK though the pre-crisis GDP level has yet to be restored – but the jobless rate will not drop below 20% until 2017. The Roman Catholic charity Caritas distributed food, clothes and help to 2.5 million people (one in 20 Spaniards) last year.

It is not surprising that there is a lot of tangible anger in Spain: at corruption, at the crony capitalism of amigotes, at the established political class (an extractive elite to use a term gaining popularity), at growing inequality and at the impact of the economic crisis. As for enchufismo and nepotism (the negative side of the otherwise admirable importance given to the family), the head of the Tribunal de Cuentas, the Court of Auditors, had to explain himself to a parliamentary committee after it was discovered that around 100 of the 700 employees were related to the Tribunal’s current and former senior management and to its trade union representatives. In another case, the PP’s cacique in Orense, José Luis Baltar, was disqualified from public office for nine years after he personally appointed 104 people to the Diputación Provincial which he headed for 25 years and which is now run by his son. If Spain were a meritocracy, the chairman of Madrid’s failed bid to host the Olympic Games in 2020, a post where speaking English is vital, would not have got the job. He responded to a question in English last September by the International Olympic Committee at the crucial meeting to decide the winning country with the words, “No listen the ask”, a peculiar way of saying he did not hear the question put to him.

One of the main defects of Spain’s democracy is the colonization by the two main parties of institutions, including the governing body of the judiciary and the Court of Auditors. This has deprived Spain of an effective system of checks and balances and led to a considerable degree of impunity.

When Chris Huhne, the former UK energy minister, resigned from the Cabinet and gave up his parliamentary seat, after he was accused and then found guilty of perverting the course of justice for asking his then wife to take three speeding points, Spaniards were gobsmacked to put it mildly. Nothing remotely approaching that happens in Spain and for far worse offences.

Unlike in the UK, which has also had a banking crisis, very few executives in Spain have lost their jobs for poor management or worse. Spain is a long way from the situation in the City of London where nearly 6,000 bankers, brokers and financial advisers have been sacked or suspended for misconduct since the start of the financial crisis in 2008, according to the Financial Conduct Authority. In the case of Rodrigo Rato, the former head of the IMF and chairman of Bankia, whose near collapse triggered an EU bail out, he and 32 other Bankia executives appeared in court to face an ongoing fraud inquiry at the end of 2012, but since then little has happened. Moreover, although under investigation (imputado in Spanish), Rato was appointed an advisor to Telefonica in January 2013 and to Banco Santander in September of that year, something I believe would not happen in this country if only for ethical reasons. Santander got rid of Rato last November (and all other international advisors) and last April Rato threw in the towel at Telefónica after being embroiled in other court cases.

Political reform is badly needed, particularly of the closed-list system in elections that gives so much power to a party’s apparatus at the expense of accountability, and makes politicians sycophantic. Under the closed-list system, as opposed to the open list, voters vote for the whole list of a party’s candidates. Candidates are elected to parliament in the order they appear on the list (as decided by the party) until all the seats have been filled.

Podemos was born out of the grassroots movement of los indignados (the indignant one), which grabbed world headlines four years ago this month when thousands of mainly young people occupied the Puerta del Sol square in the heart of Madrid and set up camp for a month (and, incidentally, inspired the Occupy Wall Street movement).

The most memorable slogan to come out of the movement of the indignant ones was that shouted in front of Spain’s parliament when protestors waved loaves of bread above their heads and screamed: “There isn’t enough bread for so many chorizos!” A chorizo is a swindler or cheat and not just a spicy sausage, often sliced and served in a bocadillo.

Podemos is a fascinating phenomenon and you should not draw too many parallels with its ally Syriza, which won Greece’s election in January. For a start, Spain’s crisis is nowhere near as profound as that in Greece, which is the nearest we have to a failed state in Europe.

Podemos became a political party in January 2014 and stunned Spain’s political establishment as well as itself by winning 1.2 million votes (8% of the total) in last May’s European election and five seats in the parliament in Brussels. The turnout in European elections is always much lower than in national elections (it was 43% on this occasion). Podemos captured voters from across the political spectrum in this election, mainly from the Socialists and even the Popular Party, but also from United Left, the revamped communist party. For the first time the Popular Party and the Socialists captured between them less than 50% of the total votes in an election.

Voters who deserted the traditional parties in the latest elections are all united by their disgust at a political, business and banking establishment that Podemos has successfully labelled la casta (the cast), although that is not to say they identify wholeheartedly with the two upstart parties. A majority of Podemos sympathisers, for example, see this party as far more radical than themselves. Nevertheless they voted for Podemos.

Disaffection is accompanied by a desire for generational change.
Podemos is led by the 36-year-old pony-tailed and media-savvy Pablo Iglesias, a political science lecturer at Madrid’s Complutense University, while Albert Rivera, the Ciudadanos leader, is 35. Pedro Sánchez, the Socialists’ new leader since last year, is 43. Rajoy is 60.

Iglesias is named after the man who founded the Socialist Party in 1879. His parents first met at a remembrance ceremony in front of Iglesias’s tomb in Madrid’s main cemetery.

The faculty of political sciences is well known for its long-standing commitment to far-left ideology. Iglesias was a member of the Communist Youth Union of Spain, part of the anti-globalisation movement and an admirer of Venezuela’s autocratic and economically populist Hugo Chávez and other radical Latin American leaders such as Rafael Correa of Ecuador and Evo Morales of Bolivia. He still lives in a modest flat in Vallecas, one of Madrid’s poorest areas, on a graffiti-daubed 1980s estate of apartment blocks. “Defend your happiness, organize your rage,” reads one graffiti slogan.

Iglesias wrote his PhD thesis on disobedience and anti-globalisation protests and was awarded a cum laude grade. He was deeply influenced by Antonio Gramsci, the Italian Marxist thinker who argued that a key battle was over the machinery that shaped political opinion. Iglesias also found inspiration in the works of the Argentine academic Ernesto Laclau who worked at the University of Essex and those of his Belgian wife Chantal Mouffe (now at the University of Westminster). Laclau and Mouffe argued that the socialist should no longer focus on class warfare, but seek to unite discontented groups against a clearly defined enemy, usually the establishment. One way of doing this was through a charismatic leader – and Iglesias is certainly a spellbinding orator, having honed his technique with a presenter’s course at the academy of the state television RTVE and some theatre work. As of January 2013 Iglesias has a programme called Fort Apache on HispanTV, a Spanish language TV channel operated by IRIB, Iran’s state-owned public broadcasting corporation. Fort Apache opened with Iglesias astride a Harley Davidson Sportster motorbike, placing a helmet over his head and – after a close-up of his eyes – slinging a massive crossbow across his back before roaring off. “Watch your head, white man. This is Fort Apache!” he warned in the trailers.

Iglesias has become something of a rock star. Everyone knows who is “el coletas” (the pony-tailed one).

Podemos advocates direct democracy. Its use of transparency websites (detailing all spending, including salaries), voting tools and online debate is already cutting-edge. Its Plaza Podemos debating site regularly attracts between 10,000 and 20,000 daily visitors. The party has cleverly listened to the voice of discontent in the street and repackaged it and transmitted it
to a wider audience.

Podemos’ economic programme began with radical demands for a 35-hour workweek, a guaranteed basic income for the needy, retirement at 60, laws to prevent profitable companies from firing people, a fairer distribution of wages, abolishing private hospitals in order to have a fully state-controlled health care system and a restructuring of Spain’s debt with its international lenders.

Realising that much of this is not practical and potentially alienating some voters, Podemos has ditched these policies and engineered a U-turn, moving its economic policy toward Nordic style social democracy. Whereas Venezuela used to be the solution to the problem of Spain, now it is Denmark. The electorate as a whole, however, still identifies Podemos as the extreme left.

The party’s star measure is a commitment to stop evictions of families who in ‘good faith’ are unable to keep up with their mortgage payments. This has been a big social problem.

This U-turn opened the first cracks in Podemos and led Juan Carlos Monedero, the party’s chief ideologue and one of its founders, to quit the leadership after accusing the party of sacrificing its principles in its bid to win power.

Monedero, incidentally, has been implicated in tax abuses, which was particularly bad news for the party given its narrative presenting itself as the “clean” alternative to the old corrupt elites.

Monedero rather maliciously calls Spain’s successful but not perfect transition to democracy the “regime of 1978”, in allusion to the democratic constitution of that year. For Spaniards the term regime is associated with the Franco regime.

As well as the transition, Podemos has also put the institution of the monarchy under scrutiny. The abdication of King Juan Carlos last year in favour of his son Felipe triggered demonstrations in favour of restoring the republic that was defeated in 1939 at the end of the Civil War. The republic had been declared in 1931 when Juan Carlos’s grandfather, Alfonso XIII, went into exile after municipal elections showed support for a republic. Franco appointed Juan Carlos his successor in 1969 and he took over as head of state in 1975. The monarchy was the problem in 1931, as it was an obstacle to democracy, and in 1975 the solution, as it was the motor of change.

Spain, in my view, has far more important problems to resolve than the form of its state. A Felipe González or a José María Aznar, former prime ministers, would, as presidents, not be above the political fray in very partisan Spain as much as a Juan Carlos was or his son Felipe VI is proving to be. Felipe enjoys high approval ratings – far higher than those of any other public figure.

Pablo Iglesias broke with protocol when he met King Felipe last month during his visit to the European Parliament and gave him the DVD of the first series of Game of Thrones. Iglesias said he chose this particular series because it depicted an “old world falling apart. The conflicting interests of the various families have plunged the kingdoms into misery, violence and sadness. In this panorama, new leaders, new armies, appear from beyond the established frontiers to make their challenge with new options, new ways of relating to a people tired of so many wars.” It was not a very subtle message.

Ciudadanos is a Catalonia-based centre-right party created nine years ago that came to the notice of wider Spain as of 2012 when it opposed the movement in the region for a separate Catalan state, which culminated last November with the holding of an illegal referendum. The party’s influence spread rapidly outside Catalonia, particularly among those who previously voted for the Popular Party and are looking for an alternative. This is not the first time a centrist Catalan based party has aspirations in all of Spain. Miquel Roca’s Partido Reformista Democrático fielded candidates in the 1986 election and won less than 1% of the vote and no seats in the Cortes. The party was quickly dissolved.

Ciudadanos’s leader Alberto Rivera summed up the differences between Ciudadanos and Podemos by saying that whereas his party wants justice, Podemos wants revenge. If one believes that, then last Sunday’s election would appear to show that revenge has won out over justice as Podemos, running in various guises, did better than Ciudadanos.

Podemos attracts votes from those hit the hardest by the crisis, particularly those under the age of 35, while Ciudadanos’ supporters are better off but equally critical of the two-party system and the corrupt and ossified elites. Podemos is engaging in transversal politics –seeking ways to cross and possibly redraw borders that mark politicised differences – while Ciudadanos has been more specific in forging its own profile.

The rise of Podemos is something of a paradox as it would appear to suggest that Spain is moving radically leftward, but this is refuted by the ideological self-placement scale which over the last 20 years has hardly ever dropped below 4.5 where 5.0 is the center (10 extreme right and 0 extreme left). The average indicator is currently 4.7 compared to 4.9 in December 2011 when the last general election was held. Spaniards do not want a rupture with the recent past – which despite its defects is still the best phase of Spain’s history in terms of prosperity and peaceful co-existence.

Rivera believes that one of Spain’s main problems is that the country has drifted rudderless and not had a project that unites the country and moves it towards a shared goal since the previous Popular Party government of José María Aznar. Adolfo Suárez, the prime minister after the death of Franco in 1975, engineered the transition to democracy, Felipe González, the Socialist prime minister between 1982 and 1996, began the modernization of the economy and gained Spain’s entry into the European Union, and Aznar made Spain one of the founder members of the euro zone.

Ciudadanos is pro-business. Its chief economic advisor is Luis Garicano, a professor at the LSE. The party would invest less in infrastructure, particularly the high-speed train network, and more in education and R&D. This is sensible. Being trapped in a monstrous traffic queue on the M3 and M25 last month for four hours when I drove from Exeter to Gatwick, brought home to me how superior Spanish transport infrastructure is to the UK’s. Spain, however, has spent far too much on public works – the source of much corruption – at the expense of education.

The party would take a tougher line on tax evasion and fraud, do more to train the unemployed, seek to reduce the differences between insiders (those with permanent contracts) and outsiders (those with temporary contracts) in the labour market and encourage migrants with certain skills to come to Spain. Ciudadanos proposes the introduction of a so-called single contract whereby workers would gain protection rights gradually, instead of the existing dual system of contracts with high and low levels of protection. Ciudadanos is also in favour of a greater separation of Church and State in Spain.

Until the arrival of Ciudadanos, Unión Progresso y Democracia (UPyD), founded in 2007, was the party that attracted those discontented with the political elite. UPyD won five seats in the Spanish parliament in 2011, but has failed to live up to expectations and did very badly in last week’s elections, winning only 0.15% of votes in the municipal elections compared to Ciudadanos’s 6.5%. Riven by personality differences and the authoritarian leadership of Rosa Diez, UPyD voters moved in droves to Ciudadanos. The logic would be for the two parties to have merged before the elections as ideologically they are basically in tune with one another. Each side blames the other for the failure to do this. Diez resigned as UPyD leader this week.

She founded UPyD after Zapatero beat her in the primary to lead the Socialist party. She is thus identified with the discredited past, whereas Rivera is associated with the future and something new.

If the voter intention polls turn out to be correct at the general election, and they were pretty accurate for last Sunday’s elections, then no party would be able to form a government on its own. The options would be a minority government, a coalition, or deadlock as in Andalucia which is what worries many people.

Spain has had two experiences of minority governments in the last 30 years, one in 1993 with the Socialists and the other in 1996 with the Popular Party, both involving the Catalan CiU, but never a coalition. I believe I am right in saying Spain is the only country in the European Union not to have had a coalition government in the last 40 years. About 75% of those polled by Metroscopia in April said they did not want a party system dominated by the PP and the Socialists, and only 25% would support a German-style ‘grand coalition’ between these two parties. About 70% think the party that wins the most votes should be allowed to form a government.

A complex formula ensures that any party that does not reach 25% of the votes will be under-represented in parliament, while the rules ensure that regionalist parties are well represented at the national level. These factors could constrain Ciudadanos and Podemos in the general election. They both have time, however, to boost their support.

The Popular Party still hopes that the gradual upturn in the economy and job creation, albeit mainly precarious jobs, will swing voters around to the party at the polls, as it did in the UK, although I would not draw too many comparisons between the Conservatives’ victory and the PP’s chances of also being re-elected, as some PP leaders were quick to do. Miriam González, the Spanish wife of Nick Clegg, wrote in El País last week – in a reference to the fear factor played up by Cameron and Rajoy – that she knew of no other party that considered a jobless rate of more than 20% and youth unemployment of more than 50% a definitive argument for winning an election.

Adapting the Chinese proverb, Spain is living interesting times.

In memoriam Raymond Carr (1919-2015)

I last spoke here in 2008; so much has happened in Spain since then that the past, paraphrasing L.P. Hartley, does seem like a foreign country where they do things differently.

This year will be a hectic one for the Spanish electorate. It kicked off in March with elections in Andalusia, which were won by the Socialists who have ruled their fiefdom for 33 years. More significantly, these elections confirmed the change in the mould of politics in post-Franco Spain, dominated at the national level by the Socialists and the Popular Party since 1982.

Two new upstart parties, the anti-austerity Podemos and the centrist Ciudadanos, took away votes from both the Socialists and the conservative Popular Party and gained 15% and 9%, respectively, of votes in the Andalusian election. The Socialists and the Popular Party gained between them only 62% of the Andalusian votes, down from 80% in 2012. They still managed, however, to win 80 out of the 109 seats. The Socialists held on to their 47 seats, despite prominent party members being embroiled in a mega corruption scandal that is under investigation involving the ripping off of hundreds of millions of euros of public funds.

The Andalusian election will be followed by elections in 13 of the 17 Spanish regions on May 24 as well as local elections, a snap election in September to elect a new parliament in Catalonia, which is moving ahead with its push for independence, and a general election probably in December.

If the opinion polls are to be believed Spain’s two-party system since the end of the Franco dictatorship in 1975 is set to take a beating in a four horse race. Podemos (which means “We can” – reminiscent of Barack Obama’s slogan “Yes, we can”) is forecast to win the general election, although its support is now waning,

In order to better understand the current political situation, you need to know something about the current state of play in Spain’s economic crisis triggered by the contagion from the subprime mortgage crisis in the US and its impact on Spain’s property boom. The number of housing starts in Spain in 2006, at the height of the illusionary boom, was 865,000 – more than Germany, France and Italy combined. The massive property bubble burst in 2008 – house prices have fallen by more than 35% since then. The number of housing starts plummeted to 35,000 last year. Today, Spain has around 500,000 unsold new homes – roughly the equivalent of two years’ shortfall in the UK- as against one million when the crisis broke. While this country has a dearth of housing, and acutely so in Oxford, Spain has a glut. Perhaps a deal could be struck between the two countries, under which Spain would ship its empty homes to the UK in return for the UK returning Gibraltar to Spain.

A typical example of the property fiasco was the Residencial Francisco Hernando near Madrid, which was intended to triple the population of Seseña in the dry plains of Castile with 13,500 flats. Billed as the Manhattan of La Mancha, the home region of Don Quixote, only around 2,500 had been sold by the time the property bubble burst. Mr. Hernando, the developer, was as deluded as Don Quixote.

The credit-fuelled construction madness was not only confined to the building of houses. Too many airports were also built during the decade-long economic fiesta when the country lived beyond its means. Take the case of Castellón, one of several ghost airports. Carlos Fabra, a Popular Party cacique, opened the airport in 2011 even though it did not have all the permits to operate. Amazing as it may sound, he justified this on the grounds that “anyone who wants can visit the runway, the terminal and the control tower and walk around them, something they could not do if aircraft were taking off.”

There is a 24 metre high copper statue to Fabra at the entrance to the airport. The Popular Party leader Mariano Rajoy had lauded Fabra in 2008 as “an exemplary citizen and politician”, words he lived to regret after becoming prime minister at the end of 2011. Ryanair will begin to operate the first scheduled flights in four years from Castellón in September. Fabra is serving a four year jail sentence for tax fraud: his case took a staggering 10 years to come to trial, epitomising another problem – the snail’s pace at which the politicized judiciary moves.

Credit was cheap, thanks to Spain belonging to the euro zone. At one stage interest rates were even negative as Spain’s inflation was higher than the cost of borrowing, encouraging people and companies to borrow as if there was no tomorrow. The one size fits all monetary policy of the European Central Bank was not appropriate for Spain.

With the collapse of the property sector and massive unemployment, loan defaults soared. The non-performing loans of all of Spain’s banks jumped from a negligible 0.7% of total credit in 2006 to a peak of 13.6%, and that figure excludes the toxic property assets of bailed out banks placed in the “bad bank” known as Sareb, which made a loss of €585 million last year.

Many of Spain’s 42 savings banks, known as cajas, – were mortally wounded by the bursting of the property bubble. Regionally based, not listed on the stock market and run by boards packed with political appointees, they fell over one another to make loans. Their number has been reduced to eight today. The collapse of Bankia, the fourth largest bank and the product of the merger of seven ailing cajas, led to a €42 billion EU bailout, which was exited last year.

When the lopsided economy, excessively concentrated on bricks and mortar, went into recession in 2009 jobs began to be shed almost as quickly as they had been created. Those of you who know your Spanish history will remember that the influx of silver and gold from Spain’s colonies in the 17th century ruined the economy, as it lulled the country into a false sense of financial security, stoked inflation and caused the currency to appreciate. The latter day and illusory variant of this wealth was the construction sector.

Spain’s construction sector was also the equivalent of the massive discovery of North Sea oil by Holland in 1959 that led to the expression Dutch disease. Over dependence on the booming construction sector lured labour away from other potentially more sustainable sectors such as manufacturing, fuelled domestic demand and so sucked in imports and eroded competitiveness and hence exports.

The jobless rate soared from a post-Franco historic low of 8% in 2007 (a high rate by UK standards but in Spain regarded as full employment) to a peak of 26% in 2013 and today has inched down to around 23%. Four Spanish regions out of a total of 272 in the European Union are among the 10 regions with the highest unemployment rates. Of the 3.5 million jobs lost since 2008, 1.7 million came from the construction sector alone. You may well ask what holds Spain together. The short answer is the extended family and the informal economy.

As the economy roared along, so more and more students dropped out of school at 16 when they completed their basic obligatory education to work in construction. In 2009, the early school leaving rate peaked: 31% of those aged between 18 and 24 in Spain had left school at 16, more than double the European Union average. The Spain’s rate was on a downward trend until the year 2000. The figure is now down to 22%, still very high, as there it no option but to keep on studying.

The salaries of unskilled labour rose at a much faster rate than those of skilled workers during the boom. If education does not pay why stay on at school when you could drop out, earn a good wage with no skills needed and buy a car by the time you were 18?

When the crash came the early school leavers were among the first to lose their jobs.

Not only is unemployment still very high, but also around one-quarter of those aged between 15 and 29 are not in employment, education or training. These people – many of whom dropped out of school for the construction sector – form a “lost generation”. They are so poorly qualified that their prospects of finding meaningful employment are slim, and the creation of a more knowledge-based economy is something of a pipedream.

Construction-related corruption has been rife among politicians, especially at the municipal level with re-zoning and building permits, fertile ground for greasing palms. It is no coincidence that the regions with the most intense construction booms, such as Valencia, were the ones where corruption flourished the most. More than 800 town halls (10% of the total) today are under investigation and several thousand people have been accused in corruption cases. In 2013, Spain slipped 10 places in the annual corruption perception ranking of the Berlin-based Transparency International to 40th position out of 177 countries, still much better than Italy. Spain’s score of 59 was six points lower. The nearer to 100, the cleaner the country.

Spain finally fell into line with the rest of the European Union at the end of last year when its first ever Transparency Law came into effect. The new law – almost 40 years after the end of the Franco dictatorship – only operates at the state level (it will be extended to municipal and regional levels, where most corruption occurs, this December).

The construction boom lured more than 4 million foreigners to Spain between 1998 and 2008. No other country in Europe has received so many immigrants in such a short space of time. When I first came to Spain in 1974 I was one of 165,000 foreigners. Today, I am one of 5 million, and that figure excludes naturalised Spaniards. Spain’s foreign-born population represents around 11% of the total population, almost the same as the UK, but Spain, to its credit, does not have a UKIP style party.

The Popular Party, which ousted the Socialists at the end of 2011, has implemented the severest austerity measures in Spain’s post-Franco democracy. It has raised income tax and VAT rates, in order to reduce the budget deficit, and injected more flexibility into a still rigid labour market. As in this country, spending cuts are weakening the welfare state. The annual rise in pension payments is no longer linked to inflation and the retirement age is gradually being put back from 65 to 67. This is a sensible reform: Spaniards are living longer (the average life expectancy is 83 years, one year more than we Brits).

The economy is finally growing – by around 2.9% this year, higher than the UK though the pre-crisis GDP level has yet to be restored – but the jobless rate will not drop below 20% until 2017. The Roman Catholic charity Caritas distributed food, clothes and help to 2.5 million people (one in 20 Spaniards) last year.

Now for the politics. It is not surprising that there is a lot of tangible anger in Spain: at corruption, at the crony capitalism of amigotes, at the established political class (an extractive elite to use a term gaining popularity), at growing inequality and at the impact of the economic crisis. As for enchufismo and nepotism (the negative side of the otherwise admirable importance given to the family), the head of the Tribunal de Cuentas, the Court of Auditors, had to explain himself to a parliamentary committee after it was discovered that around 100 of the 700 employees were related to the Tribunal’s current and former senior management and to its trade union representatives. In another case, the PP’s cacique in Orense, José Luis Baltar, was disqualified from public office for nine years after he personally appointed 104 people to the Diputación Provincial which he headed for 25 years and which is now run by his son. If Spain were a meritocracy, the chairman of Madrid’s failed bid to host the Olympic Games in 2020, a post where speaking English is vital, would not have got the job. He responded to a question in English last September by the International Olympic Committee at the crucial meeting to decide the winning country with the words, “No listen the ask”, a peculiar way of saying he did not hear the question put to him.

If you think I am critical of my adopted country, you should listen to Spaniards. As the great poet Antonio Machado said, in the mouth of Juan de Mairena, “Hay que ser español para decir las cosas que se dicen contra España.”

One of the main defects of Spain’s democracy is the colonization by the two main parties of institutions, including the governing body of the judiciary and the Court of Auditors. This has deprived Spain of an effective system of checks and balances and led to a considerable degree of impunity.

When Chris Huhne, the former UK energy minister, resigned from the Cabinet and gave up his parliamentary seat, after he was accused and then found guilty of perverting the course of justice for asking his then wife to take three speeding points, Spaniards were gobsmacked to put it mildly. Nothing remotely approaching that happens in Spain and for far worse offences.

Political reform is badly needed, particularly of the closed-list system in elections that gives so much power to a party’s apparatus at the expense of accountability, and makes politicians sycophantic. Under the closed-list system, as opposed to the open list, voters vote for the whole list of a party’s candidates. Candidates are elected to parliament in the order they appear on the list (as decided by the party) until all the seats have been filled.

Podemos and Ciudadanos are channeling this anger. The latest opinion poll gives Podemos 22.1% of the votes if a general election was held today, the Socialists 21.9%, the Popular Party 20.8% and Ciudadanos 19.4%. Only three percentage points separates Podemos from Ciudadanos. As in Britain, Spain’s political landscape has changed considerably since the last general election at the end of 2011. Whether the opinion polls are correct we will not know until the day, but what is increasingly clear is that the elections will be a four horse and not a two horse race.

Podemos was born out of the grassroots movement of los indignados (the indignant one), which grabbed world headlines almost exactly four years ago when thousands of mainly young people occupied the Puerta del Sol square in the heart of Madrid and set up camp for a month (and, incidentally, inspired the Occupy Wall Street movement). Podemos’ name is reminiscent not just of Obama’s 2008 campaign slogan, but also a TV jingle for Spain’s European and World Cup-winning football team.

The most memorable slogan to come out of the movement of the indignant ones was that shouted in front of Spain’s parliament when protestors waved loaves of bread above their heads and screamed: “There isn’t enough bread for so many chorizos!” A chorizo is a swindler or cheat and not just a spicy sausage, often sliced and served in a bocadillo.

Podemos is a fascinating phenomenon and you should not draw too many parallels with its ally Syriza, which won Greece’s election in January. For a start, Spain’s crisis is nowhere near as profound as that in Greece, which is the nearest we have to a failed state in Europe.

Podemos became a political party in January 2014 and stunned Spain’s political establishment as well as itself by winning 1.2 million votes (8% of the total) in last May’s European election and five seats in the parliament in Brussels. Podemos captured voters from across the political spectrum, mainly from the Socialists and the United Left but also from the Popular Party, and all of them united by their disgust at a political, business and banking establishment that Podemos has successfully labelled la casta (the cast). For the first time in Spain’s post-Franco democracy, the Popular Party and the Socialists captured between them less than 50% of the total votes in an election.

Podemos is led by the 36-year-old pony-tailed and media-savvy Pablo Iglesias, a political science lecturer at Madrid’s Complutense University who is named after the man who founded the Socialist Party in 1879. His parents first met at a remembrance ceremony in front of Iglesias’s tomb in Madrid’s main cemetery.

The faculty of political sciences is well known for its long standing commitment to far-left ideology. Iglesias was a member of the Communist Youth Union of Spain, part of the anti-globalisation movement and an admirer of Venezuela’s autocratic and economically populist Hugo Chávez and other radical Latin American leaders such as Rafael Correa of Ecuador and Evo Morales of Bolivia. He still lives in a modest flat in Vallecas, one of Madrid’s poorest areas, on a graffiti-daubed 1980s estate of apartment blocks. “Defend your happiness, organize your rage,” reads one graffiti slogan.

Iglesias wrote his PhD thesis on disobedience and anti-globalisation protests and was awarded a cum laude grade. He was deeply influenced by Antonio Gramsci, the Italian Marxist thinker who argued that a key battle was over the machinery that shaped political opinion. Iglesias also found inspiration in the works of the Argentine academic Ernesto Laclau who worked at the University of Essex and those of his Belgian wife Chantal Mouffe (now at the University of Westminster). Laclau and Mouffe argued that the socialist should no longer focus on class warfare, but seek to unite discontented groups against a clearly defined enemy, usually the establishment. One way of doing this was through a charismatic leader – and Iglesias is certainly a spellbinding orator, having honed his technique with a presenter’s course at the academy of the state television RTVE and some theatre work. As of January 2013 Iglesias has a programme called Fort Apache on HispanTV, a Spanish language TV channel operated by IRIB, Iran’s state-owned public broadcasting corporation. Fort Apache opened with Iglesias astride a Harley Davidson Sportster motorbike, placing a helmet over his head and – after a close-up of his eyes – slinging a massive crossbow across his back before roaring off. “Watch your head, white man. This is Fort Apache!” he warned in the trailers.

Iglesias has become something of a rock star. Everyone knows who is “el coletas” (the pony-tailed one).

Podemos advocates direct democracy. Its use of transparency websites (detailing all spending, including salaries), voting tools and online debate is already cutting-edge. Its Plaza Podemos debating site regularly attracts between 10,000 and 20,000 daily visitors. The party has cleverly listened to the voice of discontent in the street and repackaged it and transmitted it
to a wider audience.

Podemos’ economic programme began with radical demands for a 35-hour workweek, a guaranteed basic income for the needy, retirement at 60, laws to prevent profitable companies from firing people, a fairer distribution of wages, abolishing private hospitals in order to have a fully state-controlled health care system and a restructuring of Spain’s debt with its international lenders.

Realising that much of this is not practical and potentially alienating some voters, Podemos has engineered a U-turn and moved its economic policy toward Nordic style social democracy.

Juan Carlos Monedero, the party’s chief ideologue, refers maliciously to Spain’s transition to democracy as the “regime of 1978”, in allusion to the democratic constitution of that year. For Spaniards the term regime is associated with the Franco regime. As someone who lived through and reported on Spain’s remarkably smooth transition, between 1975 and 1978, there is no question that it has given Spain its longest period of prosperity, freedom and peace in its history.

Monedero, incidentally, has been implicated in tax abuses, which was particularly bad news for Podemos given its narrative presenting itself as the “clean” alternative to the old corrupt elites. Last week, in the first crack in the party, he quit the Podemos leadership, accusing it of sacrificing its principles in its U-turn toward social democracy.

Of course, the transition was not perfect. The deal negotiated by Francoist politicians and the democratic opposition left in place the bulk of civil servants, the judiciary and the security forces, as one would expect since the transition was negotiated and not a rupture with the past. There were very real fears at the time of a right wing backlash by the armed forces – indeed there was an attempted and bloodless coup in 1981 in an attempt to turn back the clock.

We should not forge that unlike say Chile and South Africa, which also moved to democracy, Spain’s transition came out of not only a dictatorship, which lasted 36 years, but also an horrendous civil war between 1936 and 1939. The blame for most of Spain’s ills cannot be laid at the door of the transition.

As well as the transition, the institution of the monarchy is also under scrutiny. The abdication of King Juan Carlos last year in favour of his son Felipe triggered demonstrations in favour of restoring the republic that was defeated in 1939 at the end of the Civil War. The republic had been declared in 1931 when Juan Carlos’s grandfather, Alfonso XIII, went into exile after municipal elections showed widespread support for a republic. Franco appointed Juan Carlos his successor in 1969 and he took over as head of state when the dictator died in 1975.

Spain has far more important problems to resolve than the form of its state. Furthermore, parliamentary monarchies are generally cheaper to maintain than republics. The budget of Spain’s royal’s household is £6.4 million, that of France’s Élysée presidential palace £100 million. A Felipe González or a José María Aznar, former prime ministers, would, as presidents, not be above the political fray in very partisan Spain as much as a Juan Carlos was or his son Felipe VI is proving to be. I know Felipe a little as he is the honorary chairman of the think tank for whom I work.

Pablo Iglesias broke with protocol when he met King Felipe last month during his visit to the European Parliament and gave him the DVD of the first series Game of Thrones. Iglesias said he chose this particular series because it depicted an “old world falling apart. The conflicting interests of the various families have plunged the kingdoms into misery, violence and sadness. In this panorama, new leaders, new armies, appear from beyond the established frontiers to make their challenge with new options, new ways of relating to a people tired of so many wars.” It was not a very subtle message.

Ciudadanos is a Catalonia-based centre-right party created nine years ago that came to the notice of wider Spain as of 2012 when it opposed the movement in the region for a separate Catalan state, which culminated last November with the holding of an illegal referendum. The party’s influence is beginning to spread outside Catalonia, particularly among those who previously voted for the Popular Party and are looking for an alternative. It did rather well in its first election in Spain outside its home region when it captured 9% of the votes in Andalusia, not a region that is particularly fertile ground for such a party.

Ciudadanos is a safe alternative to Podemos. Its 35-year-old leader Alberto Rivera summed up the differences between Ciudadanos and Podemos by saying that whereas his party wants justice, Podemos wants revenge.

The rise of Podemos would appear to suggest that Spain is moving radically leftward, but this is refuted by the ideological self-placement scale which over the last 20 years has hardly ever dropped below 4.5 where 5.0 is the center (10 extreme right and 0 extreme left). The average indicator was 4.4 in February (latest figure) compared to 4.9 in December 2011 when the last general election was held.

Spaniards, in my view, are conservative and not up for any adventures which is why I believe Podemos has hit a ceiling and Ciudadanos has not yet done so. The recklessness in power of Syriza is also doing Podemos no good.

Podemos did not do that well in the Andalusian election. With unemployment at 34% (10 percentage points above the national rate) and an early school-leaving rate of 29%, Podemos had a large pool of discontent upon which to draw voters. Surprisingly, however, only 64% of Andalusians bothered to vote, the third lowest turn-out in the region’s electoral history.

Rivera, the leader of Ciudadanos, is still only known by 77% of respondents, according to the latest Metroscopia poll, but in April he was the most approved political leader (53%), while Pablo Iglesias is known by almost everyone but only won a 29% approval rating.

Rivera believes that one of Spain’s main problems is that the country has not had a project that unites the country and moves it towards a shared goal since the previous Popular Party government of José María Aznar. Adolfo Suárez, the prime minister after the death of Franco in 1975, engineered the transition to democracy, Felipe González, the Socialist prime minister between 1982 and 1996, began the modernization of the economy and gained Spain’s entry into the European Union, and Aznar made Spain one of the founder members of the euro zone. Since 2008, first with the Socialist José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero and then as of the end of 2011 with the Popular Party’s Mariano Rajoy, Spain, says Rivera, has drifted rudderless, with party projects but not one for the country as a whole. As he recently wrote in El País, “The two establishment parties have been more concerned with saving the reputation of their obsolete organisations than in helping citizens.” This resonates with Spaniards who are fed up with the bickering between the Socialists and the Popular Party and their inability to put aside their differences for the good of the country.

Ciudadanos is pro-business. Its chief economic advisor is Luis Garicano, a professor at the LSE. The party would invest less in infrastructure and more in education and R&D. This is sensible. Being trapped in a monstrous traffic queue on the M3 and M25 last month for four hours when I drove from Exeter to Gatwick, because of accidents, after addressing the annual conference of Hispanists, brought home to me how superior Spanish transport infrastructure is to the UK’s. Spain, however, has spent far too much on public works – the source of much corruption – at the expense of education.

The party would take a tougher line on tax evasion and fraud, do more to train the unemployed, seek to reduce the differences between insiders (those with permanent contracts) and outsiders (those with temporary contracts) in the labour market and encourage migrants with certain skills to come to Spain. Ciudadanos proposes the introduction of a so-called single contract whereby workers would gain protection rights gradually, instead of the existing dual system of contracts with high and low levels of protection. Ciudadanos is also in favour of a greater separation of Church and State in Spain.

While the PP and the Socialists continue to enjoy the most support in rural areas and among voters over the age of 55, in towns and cities of more than 50,000 inhabitants and among younger voters it is a tighter race between the four parties.

The votes of those aged between 18 and 24 could be decisive. According to a study, fewer than 5% of voters in that age bracket support the Popular Party today compared to 30% at the last general election in 2011, and something similar, though less pronounced, has happened to the Socialist party.

Until the arrival of Ciudadanos, Unión Progresso y Democracia (UPyD) was the party that attracted those discontented with the political elite. UPyD, however, has failed to live up to expectations and did very badly in the Andalusian election where it won just 1.9% of the vote. Riven by personality differences and the authoritarian leadership of Rosa Diez, UPyD voters are moving in droves to Ciudadanos. The logic would be for the two parties to formally merge as ideologically they are basically in tune with one another. Each side blames the other for the failure to do this.

UPyD was founded in 2007 – one year after Ciudadanos – after Zapatero beat Rosa Diez in the primary to lead the Socialist party. She is thus identified with the discredited past, whereas Rivera is associated with the future.

The Socialists and the PP between them captured 73% of the vote at the last general election in 2011, down from a peak of 84% in 2008. According to the latest poll, they would get 43%.

If the voter intention polls turn out to be correct at the general election then no party would be able to form a government on its own and the options would be a minority government, a coalition or gridlock which is what worries many people. Spain has had two experiences of minority governments in the last 30 years, one in 1993 with the Socialists and the other in 1996 with the Popular Party, but never a coalition. I believe I am right in saying Spain is the only country in the European Union not to have had a coalition government.

You should not read too much into this opinion poll because the rules of the proportional electoral system need to be taken into account. A complex formula ensures that any party that does not reach 25% of the votes will be under-represented in parliament, while the rules ensure that regionalist parties are well represented at the national level. These factors could constrain Podemos and Ciudadanos. Most of their supporters live in big cities: if they cannot boost their rural vote they will not do as well on election day as the polls suggest.

The Popular Party hopes that the gradual upturn in the economy and job creation, albeit mainly precarious jobs, will swing voters around to the party at the polls. Like the Conservative Party here and its stance toward the opposition Labour Party, the PP’s simplistic electoral strategy will be to heap blame on the Socialist opposition for getting Spain into its mess and ask voters whether they want a repeat of the same. The Socialists, in turn, like the Labour Party here, will blame the PP for weakening the welfare state and endless austerity.

It would not be a bad thing for Spain to have a coalition government. Everything depends on the mathematics of the results. Three-quarters of respondents in an opinion poll last month said they were in favour of a national pact between the main parties – which is not the same as a coalition – and 77% welcomed the PP and the Socialists no longer dominating political life.

The most likely outcomes, in my view, would be the PP or the Socialists with Ciudadanos, rather than with Podemos, which I find this less likely. This could also be an option if the PP emerges por los pelos with the most votes and decides to go it alone with a minority government and seeks pacts on a case by case basis. Personally, I would like the PP and the Socialists to form a German-style coalition and be condemned to understand one another.

Lastly, I do not want to finish without alluding to the ongoing problem of Catalonia, Spain’s economic powerhouse, which unlike Scotland was barred from holding an referendum on the issue because it is unconstitutional. Nevertheless, the Catalan government defied the Constitutional Court and went ahead last November with a pseudo non-binding referendum, manned by volunteers, in which 2.3 million people voted out of 6.3 million eligible voters. 1.8 million people voted in favour of independence and 500,000 against. Supports of independence hailed it as a victory, although the voter turnout was only 37%. Artur Mas, Catalonia’s premier, faces charges related to the holding of this illegal referendum.

Catalonia, with its own language, history and culture, has long had secessionist aspirations, but they did not come to a head until a landmark ruling in 2010 by the Constitutional Court which struck down parts of a new statute setting out the relationship between Catalonia and Spain. The statute, which would have further bolstered Catalan autonomy, had been approved by the Spanish and Catalan parliaments, and was backed by a referendum in the region. Catalan nationalists felt betrayed and the independence movement took off. The push for a separate state has also been intensified by Spain’s crisis which has highlighted the perceived unfairness of Catalan tax transfers to the rest of the country and led, so pro-independence supporters say, to tougher spending cuts in the region than otherwise would be the case.

The central government in Madrid and Catalonia remain on a collision course. Mas has called an early election to be held in September which is intended to serve as a plebiscite on independence. This is a gamble. The last time he called an early election, it backfired on his centre-right CiU coalition which lost 12 seats. The more radical and historically pro-independence Republican Left of Catalonia won 11 more seats and this time round is forecast to win the election. Mas had hoped to persuade the Republican Left to field a joint list of candidates, but it rejected the idea.

Catalan independence would put an end to Spain. Not only is its contribution, in terms of people and economic output, far greater than that of Scotland, but were it to secede from Spain it could have a domino effect, particularly in the Basque Country, traditionally the main focus of secessionist tensions in Spain.

I thank the organisers for inviting me. It is a particular pleasure to be on the podium with two friends: John Hooper and I shared, along with four other correspondents, one of the world’s scruffiest and least paperless offices in 1976 in Madrid. The latest issue of the International Journal of Iberian Studies has a long article about foreign correspondents during the Transition in which we both figure. Giles Tremlett is a colleague and neighbour in Madrid

In order to better understand where Spain is today, you need to be briefly reminded of where the country is coming from.

The best way to sum up the madness of the credit-fuelled construction boom and not only the building of houses – the massive price bubble burst in 2008 – is what happened at Castellón, one of several ghost airports. Carlos Fabra, a Popular Party cacique, opened the airport in 2011 even though it did not have all the permits to operate. He justified this on the grounds that “anyone who wants can visit the runway, the terminal and the control tower and walk around them, something they could not do if aircraft were taking off.” The European Court of Auditors Union lambasted Spain last December for wasting EU cohesion policy funds on building so many useless airports.

There is a 24 metre high copper statue to Fabra at the entrance to the airport. The Popular Party leader Mariano Rajoy had lauded Fabra in 2008 as “an exemplary citizen and politician”, words he lived to regret after becoming prime minister at the end of 2011. Ryanair will began to operate the first scheduled flights in four years from Castellón in September. Fabra is serving a four year jail sentence for tax fraud: his case took a staggering 10 years to come to trial, illustrating another problem – the snail’s pace at which the politicized judiciary moves.

The number of housing starts in 2006, at the height of the illusionary boom, was 865,000 – more than Germany, France and Italy combined. The number last year had plummeted to 35,000. A typical example of the property fiasco was the Residencial Francisco Hernando near Madrid, which was intended to triple the population of Seseña in the dry plains of Castile with 13,500 flats. Billed as the Manhattan of La Mancha, the home region of Don Quixote, only around 2,500 had been sold by the time the property bubble burst. The developer was as deluded as Don Quixote.

Credit was cheap, thanks to Spain belonging to the euro zone. At one stage interest rates were even negative as Spain’s inflation was higher than the cost of borrowing. The one size fits all monetary policy of the European Central Bank was not appropriate for Spain.

At one point during the boom Spain accounted for one-quarter of the total number of 500 euro notes in circulation, although the Spanish economy only represents around 11% of the total euro zone economy. Spaniards referred to these notes, used in black economy transactions, as “bin Ladens” (in reference to Osama bin Laden), because everyone knew they existed and what they looked like but few had seen them or admitted to doing so.

When the lopsided economy went into a deep recession in 2009 jobs began to be shed almost as quickly as they had been created. The jobless rate soared from a post-Franco historic low of 8% in 2007 (a high rate by UK standards) to a peak of 26% in 2013 and today has inched down to around 23%. Of the 3.5 million jobs lost since 2008, 1.7 million came from the construction sector alone.

Not only is unemployment still very high, but around one-quarter of those aged between 15 and 29 are not in employment, education or training. These people – many of whom dropped out of school for the construction sector – form a “lost generation”. They are so poorly qualified that their prospects of finding meaningful employment are slim, and the creation of a more knowledge-based economy is something of a pipedream. Spain spends 1.24% of GDP on R&D compared to a EU average of more than 2%.

As the economy roared along, so more and more students dropped out of school at 16 when they completed their basic obligatory education to work in the construction sector. In 2009, 31% of those aged between 18 and 24 in Spain were early school leavers, more than double the European Union average. This figure is now down to 22%, still very high.

Take the case of Villacañas which became the door-making capital of Spain. At the height of the boom, this town of 10,000 inhabitants had 10 door manufacturing plants employing 6,000 people and producing 11 million doors a year, 60% of the national total. Hardly anyone stayed on at school, and those that did were regarded as gilipollas by those working in the door factories. One bright lad saw the writing on the wall and stopped working in one of the factories so he could complete his education. He did so well that he won a place at the London School of Economics and went on to work for the Bank of Spain.

Many of Spain’s 42 savings banks, known as cajas were mortally wounded when the property bubble burst. Regionally based, not listed on the stock market and run by boards packed with political appointees, they fell over one another to make loans. Their number has been reduced to eight today. The collapse of Bankia, the fourth largest bank and the product of the merger of seven ailing cajas, led to a €42 billion EU bailout, which was exited last year. The savings banks were culled: their number now stands at eight.

With the collapse of the property sector, loan defaults soared. The non-performing loans of all of Spain’s banks jumped from a negligible 0.7% of total credit in 2006 to a peak of 13.6%, and that figure excludes the toxic property assets of bailed out banks placed in the “bad bank” known as Sareb. Sareb made a loss of €585 million last year as the Bank of Spain insisted on massive provisions.

Construction-related corruption was rife among politicians, especially at the municipal level with re-zoning and building permits, fertile ground for greasing palms. More than 800 town halls (10% of the total) today are under investigation and several thousand people have been accused in corruption cases. In 2013, Spain slipped 10 places in the annual corruption perception ranking of the Berlin-based Transparency International to 40th position out of 177 countries, still much better than Italy. Spain’s score of 59 was six points lower. The nearer to 100, the cleaner the country. Spain improved a little in the 2014 ranking.

One way to launder ill gotten gains is to find someone who has won the lottery and buy their winning ticket for more money than it is worth, cash in hand. One Spanish businessmen, currently in custody as part of a corruption ring, claimed he won the lottery eight times in a 16-month period, beating all the odds.

Spain finally fell into line with the rest of the European Union at the end of last year when its first ever Transparency Law came into effect. The new law – almost 40 years after the end of the Franco dictatorship – only operates at the state level (it will be be extended to municipal and regional levels, where most corruption occurs, this December).

The construction boom lured more than 4 million foreigners to Spain between 1998 and 2008. No other country in Europe has received so many immigrants in such a short space of time. The number of Rumanians, the largest foreign community, rose from a mere 6,410 in 2000 to around 900,000 today.

When I first came to Spain in 1974 I was one of 165,000 foreigners. Today, I am one of 5 million, and that figure excludes naturalised Spaniards. Spain’s foreign-born population represents around 11% of the total population, almost the same as the UK, but Spain, to its credit, does not have a UKIP style party.

While immigrants continue to arrive in large numbers in the UK, in Spain they have been returning home because of the crisis. Spaniards are also emigrating, though most of them are naturalised and not native Spaniards. The population has fallen by 600,000 since 2012, according to the latest figures.

The Popular Party, which ousted the Socialists at the end of 2011, has implemented the severest austerity measures in Spain’s post-Franco democracy and raised income tax and VAT rates, in order to reduce the budget deficit. As in this country, spending cuts are weakening the welfare state. The annual rise in pension payments is no longer linked to inflation and the retirement age is gradually being put back from 65 to 67. This is a sensible reform: Spaniards are living longer (the average life expectancy is 83 years, one year more than we Brits).

The government introduced labour market reforms in 2012 in a bid to make it easier for companies to create jobs, particularly for young people, and less onerous to fire people. Youth unemployment is 55% and around half that including those in education and training which is the more accurate way to measure it.

Tourism, a cornerstone of the economy, is flourishing, but it does not create jobs on a sustained basis. The Canary Islands alone receive more than 10 million tourists a year (five times their population) and yet has an unemployment rate of more than 30%.

The economy is finally growing – by around 2.8% this year, higher than the UK though the pre-crisis GDP level has yet to be restored. The current account is in surplus, having notched up a deficit of 10% of GDP in 2009, and the budget deficit (11% of GDP in 2009) is painfully moving toward the EU threshold of 3%.

Average house prices rose marginally last year for the first time since 2008. Prices are around 35% lower than in 2008, and there are still around 500,000 unsold new homes, roughly the equivalent of two years’ shortfall in the UK. Perhaps a deal could be struck between the two countries, under which Spain would ship its empty homes to the UK in return for the UK returning Gibraltar to Spain. Incidentally, the government’s policy on Gibraltar is counter productive and going nowhere.

Unemployment is finally beginning to decline, but will remain above 20% until 2017, according to all the forecasts. 60% of the 5.4 million jobless have been without work for two years or more and most of these people are no longer receiving unemployment benefits.

This year will be a hectic one for the Spanish electorate. It kicked off last month week elections in Andalusia, which were won by the Socialists who have ruled the region for 33 years. This election confirmed the change in the mould of politics in post-Franco Spain, dominated at the national level by the Socialists and the Popular Party since 1982. Two new upstart parties, the anti-austerity Syriza-style Podemos and the centrist Ciudadanos, took away votes from both the Socialists and the Popular Party and gained 15% and 9%, respectively, of votes. The Socialists and the Popular Party gained between them only 62% of the votes, down from 80% in 2012. Spain’s economic recovery is bringing few political dividends for the PP.

I vowed not to steal Giles’s thunder on Podemos so will lay off this subject other than to say that this party did not do that well in the fertile ground of Andalusia where the jobless rate is 34% and the early school-leaving rate 29%, creating a large pool of discontent. Surprisingly, only 64% of Andalusians bothered to vote, the third lowest turn-out in the region’s electoral history. Ciudadanos did rather well in Andalusia for a party identified with Catalonia.

The Andalusian election will be followed by elections in 13 of the 17 Spanish regions in May as well as local elections, a snap election to elect a new parliament in Catalonia, which is moving ahead with its push for independence that would put an end to Spain, and a general election probably in December. Not only is Catalonia’s contribution, in terms of people and economic output, far greater than that of Scotland, but were it to secede from Spain it could have a domino effect, particularly in the Basque Country, traditionally the main focus of secessionist tensions in Spain.

There is a lot of anger in Spain and Podemos is successfully channeling it. Alberto Rivera, the leader of Ciudadanlos, says the difference between Ciudadanos and Podemos is that his party wants justice while Podemos wants revenge.

If the voter intention polls turn out to be correct at the general election then no party would be able to form a government on its own and the options would be a minority government, a coalition or gridlock which is what worries many people. Spain has had two experiences of minority governments in the last 32 years, but never a coalition.

One of the main defects of Spain’s democracy is the colonization by the two main parties of institutions, including the governing body of the judiciary and the Court of Auditors. This has deprived Spain of an effective system of checks and balances and led to a considerable degree of impunity.

Hardly anyone in Spain accepts their political responsibilities and resigns. My Spanish friends were gobsmacked when Chris Huhne, the former Liberal Democrat minister, resigned from the Cabinet and his seat in parliament after it was discovered that his then wife had taken his speeding points. Nothing remotely approaching that happens in Spain, and for far worse offences.

If you think I am too critical of my adopted country, you should listen to Spaniards. As the great poet Antonio Machado said, in the mouth of Juan de Mairena, “Hay que ser español para decir las cosas que se dicen contra España.”

Political reform is badly needed, particularly of the closed-list system in elections that gives so much power to a party’s apparatus at the expense of accountability, and makes politicians sycophantic. Under the closed-list system, as opposed to the open one, voters vote for the whole list and not a particular candidate. Candidates are elected to parliament in the order they appear on the list (as decided by the party) until all the seats have been filled.

The institution of the monarchy is also under scrutiny in some quarters. The abdication of King Juan Carlos last year triggered demonstrations in favour of restoring the republic that was defeated in 1939 at the end of the Civil War. Spain has far more important problems to resolve than the form of its state.

When I interviewed Juan Carlos in 1977 at a time when he was still referred to as Juan Carlos el Tonto (Juan Carlos the Stupid) and Juan Carlos el Breve (Juan Carlos the Shortlived), he joked about himself. “Why was I crowned in a submarine? Because deep down, I am not so stupid.” The king showed his astuteness again by abdicating, although it can be seen as a humiliation as he had always insisted he would not do so, and, like Franco, die with “las botas puestas” (with his boots on).

Felipe VI, whom I know as he is the honorary chairman of the think tank for whom I work, is very well prepared and already we are seeing a different and more inclusive style and greater transparency in the royal household.

Some of you may be wondering what holds Spain together. To a significant extent, this is due to the extended family-based network, where parents and grandparents play a key role in times of crisis, and Spaniards’ tremendous capacity of resistance and innate common sense. A crisis of Spain’s proportions with a UK-style family structure would have produced considerably more social conflict than has been the case. Long may the family thrive in Spain.

Spain is the European Union’s fifth largest economy and a whopping 15 million British tourists visited the country last year, a record number and including, perhaps, some of you who are here today.

In order to better understand where Spain is today, you need to know from where it is coming from and so I will start with a brief description of how the country got into its crisis, followed by the measures taken to resolve it and where we are now. My wife tells me that I tend to overload my conferences with numbers, so I will try to heed her advice a little more this time although as a former Financial Times correspondent I do like to be precise.

The origins of the crisis, 2008-2011

Quite a lot of words in the English language can be traced to the Spanish language and one of them is “fiesta” or party. The Spanish economy enjoyed a fiesta for more than a decade, but it was largely built on the shaky foundations of the credit-fuelled property sector whose huge price bubble burst in 2008, leaving around one million unsold homes. What happened in the housing sector was sheer madness and should serve as a cautionary tale. The number of houses that began to be built during 2006, at the height of the illusionary boom and two years before the crash, was 865,000 (my first number) – more than Germany, France and Italy combined. A typical example of the property fiasco was the Residencial Francisco Hernando (name after the developer), 20 miles outside Madrid, which was intended to triple the population of Seseña in the dry plains of Castile with 13,500 flats. Billed as the Manhattan of La Mancha, the home region of Don Quixote, as deluded as the developer, only around 2,500 had been sold by the time the property bubble burst.

Spain also has several ghost airports yet to be sold, including one which was opened in 2011 by Carlos Fabra, a local political boss, or cacique (another Spanish loan word), from the conservative Popular Party even though it did not have all the permits. He justified this on the grounds that “anyone who wants can visit the runway, the terminal and the control tower and walk around them, something they could not do if aircraft were taking off.” There is a 24 metre copper statue to Fabra – who is serving a four year sentence for tax fraud – at the entrance to the airport. The Popular Party leader Mariano Rajoy lauded Fabra in 2008 as “an exemplary citizen and politician”, words he lived to regret after becoming prime minister at the end of 2011. Ryanair will began to operate the first scheduled flights in four years from Castellón in September.

The booming economy encouraged people to go on a spending spree and live beyond their means. Credit was cheap, thanks to Spain belonging to the euro zone. At one stage interest rates were even negative as Spain’s inflation was higher than the cost of borrowing. The one size fits all monetary policy of the European Central Bank was not appropriate for Spain. When the economy went into a deep recession in 2009 and jobs began to be shed, particularly in the property sector, many of the unemployed were unable to service their mortgages. The jobless rate soared from an historic low of 8% in 2007 (a high rate by UK standards) to a massive 22% at the end of 2011 when the Popular Party ousted the Socialists in the general election.

Many of Spain’s 40 savings banks, known as cajas, – their nearest equivalent in the UK would be the equally ill fated Co-operative Bank – were also left high and dry when the property bubble burst. These banks accounted for around half of Spain’s banking system. Regionally based, not listed on the stock market and run by boards packed with political appointees, they fell over one another to make loans. With the collapse of the property sector, loan defaults soared. The non-performing loans of all of Spain’s banks jumped from a negligible 0.7% of total credit in 2006 to around 13% today.

Construction-related corruption was rife among politicians, especially at the municipal level with re-zoning and building permits, fertile ground for greasing palms. The level of corruption, as we will see, has become one of Spaniards’ main concerns after unemployment.

One way to launder ill gotten gains is to win the lottery or rather I should say find someone who has won the lottery and buy their winning ticket from the lucky holder for more money than it is worth, cash in hand. One Spanish businessmen, currently in custody as part of a corruption ring, claimed he won the lottery eight times in a 16-month period, beating all the odds.

At one point during the boom Spain accounted for one-quarter of the total number of 500 euro notes in circulation in the euro zone countries, although the Spanish economy only represents around 11% of the total euro zone economy. Ordinary Spaniards referred to these notes, used in black economy transactions, as “bin Ladens” (in reference to Osama bin Laden), because everyone knew they existed and what they looked like but few had seen them or admitted to doing so.

As the economy roared along, so more and more teenagers dropped out of school at 16 when they completed their basic obligatory education to work in the construction sector. In 2008, 32% of those aged between 18 and 24 in Spain were what we call early school leavers, more than double the European Union average. This figure is now down to 22%, still very high.

Take the case of Villacañas near Toledo which became the door-making capital of Spain. At the height of the boom, this town of 10,000 inhabitants had 10 door manufacturing plants employing 6,000 people and producing 11 million doors a year, 60% of the national total. Hardly anyone stayed on at school, and those that did were regarded as idiots by those working in the door factories. One bright lad saw the writing on the wall and stopped working in one of the factories so he could complete his education. He did so well that he won a place at the London School of Economics and went on to work for the Bank of Spain, the central bank. To borrow the title of a novel by the Nobel laureate Gabriel García Marquez, Spain’s property madness was a “chronicle of a death foretold.”

Those of you who know your Spanish history will remember that the influx of silver and gold from Spain’s colonies in the 17th century ruined the economy, as it lulled the country into a false sense of financial security, stoked inflation and caused the currency to appreciate. The latter day and illusory variant of this wealth was bricks and mortar.

Over 4 million foreigners arrived in Spain between 1998 and 2008, mainly lured by the construction boom. No other country in Europe has received so many immigrants in such a short space of time. The number of Rumanians, the largest foreign community, rose from a mere 6,410 in 2000 to around 900,000 today.

When I first came to Spain in 1974 I was one of 165,000 foreigners. Today, I am one of around 5 million, and that figure excludes naturalised Spaniards. Spain’s foreign-born population represents around 11% of the total population, a little less than the UK. While immigrants continue to arrive in large numbers in the UK, in Spain they have been returning home because of the crisis. Unemployment among the immigrant population is more than 30%.

The crisis exposed a mainly passive society – apart from some lone voices – that was more interested in perpetuating the economic fiesta than in challenging the status quo and asking. When I suggested in a newspaper column that villages’ annual fiestas, which spend millions on entertainment, should be abolished until Spain’s crisis was over, it did not go down well and I was accused of being a party pooper. In the case of the village of 400 inhabitants where I have had a house for 40 years, we have a magnificent firework display on the football field, money that I lament out loud every year would be better spent on the village school.

The measures taken by the Popular Party

The Popular Party swept the Socialists out of power at the end of 2011 and began to put Spain’s economic house in order. The worst offenders as regards the property building madness were the regions with Popular Party governments, such as Valencia, ground zero of the real estate bubble, and most of the corruption cases involve that party.

The most immediate problem was in the banking sector, as it threatened the whole economy. Seven savings banks, mostly controlled by the Popular Party, particularly the largest one, Caja Madrid, had merged in 2010 to form Bankia, the fourth largest bank and the largest holder of real estate loans. Officials hoped the consolidation of these institutions into one large bank would resolve the savings bank crisis, but instead the botched merger created the biggest banking catastrophe in Spain’s history. In 2011, Bankia, led by Rodrigo Rato, the former head of the International Monetary Fund and economy minister in previous Popular Party governments, was listed on the stock market and in May 2012 it requested a €22 billion bail-out from the European Union and was partly nationalized. Bankia’s made a net loss in 2012 of €19 billion, the largest in Spain’s corporate history.

The more than 350,000 retail investors who had bought shares in Bankia in the belief they were a safe investment saw their savings virtually wiped out by a share price that plummeted over the course of a year to almost zero. There is an ongoing judicial investigation into this scandal: last month Bankia was ordered to set aside €800 million to meet possible claims from its stock market listing and subsequent turmoil. Many savers say they were misled into buying the shares. Bankia’s former management stands accused of providing false information. Rato is also accused of sanctioning and personally benefiting from an illicit expenses scheme which allowed senior management to use company credit cards to spend millions of euros on goods and services completely unrelated to the bank’s operations.

The disgraced Rato was forced out of Bankia and the governor of the Bank of Spain, the country’s central bank, left before his term of office ended after the government criticized him for not having his eye on the ball. The new Bank of Spain governor, Luis Linde, summed up the situation in the following way. “In the real estate and financial bubble years there was a sort of euphoria which led to the risks that were accumulating to not be seen, or nor wish to be seen. It was as if nobody wanted to forecast scenarios of recession, interest rate rises or collapses in funding.” Linde said in bank speak what George Orwell observed in 1946 when he wrote, “to see what is in front of one’s nose needs a constant struggle.”

As well as getting tough with the banks, the Popular Party has implemented the severest austerity measures in Spain’s post-Franco democracy and raised income tax and VAT rates, in order to reduce the budget deficit. As in this country, spending cuts are weakening the welfare state. The annual rise in pension payments is no longer linked to inflation and the retirement age is gradually being put back from 65 to 67.

This is a sensible reform: Spaniards are living longer (83 years on average, one more than the Brits).

The government introduced labour market reforms in 2012 in a bid to make it easier for companies to create jobs, particularly for young people, and less onerous to fire people. Youth unemployment is 55% and around half that including those in education and training which is the more accurate way to measure it.

One major reason why unemployment is so high in Spain is the lopsided economic model, excessively based on the construction and real estate sectors. Their collapse had a huge knock on effect. Of the 3.5 million jobs lost since 2007, 1.6 million came from these sectors and that figure excludes those people who lost their jobs in areas related to these sectors, such as the door makers I mentioned earlier on.

Tourism, another cornerstone of the economy, has survived, indeed flourished, but it, too, does not create jobs on a sustained basis. Take the example of the Canary Islands, which receives more than 10 million tourists a year (five times their population) and yet has an unemployment rate of more than 30%.

Spain today

Corruption and nepotism flourished during the boom and since the crisis hardly a day passes without a new scandal being unearthed in the press or more details regarding ongoing cases. Spain’s justice system moves at a snail’s pace. I mentioned Carlos Fabra earlier on: it took a staggering 10 years for his case to come to trial. The backlog of all cases was highlighted last year by photos in the Spanish press showing files piled up in the toilets of courts. More than 800 town halls (10% of the total) today are under investigation and several thousand people have been accused in corruption cases. The judiciary is finally cranking into action and cleaning out the Augean stables.

The ongoing case that has hit the headlines the most is the slush fund scandal run by Luis Bárcenas, the former Popular Party treasurer, involving secret cash payments to the party’s leaders over 18 years, including allegedly to Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy, and donations to the party from companies, mainly construction ones, in return for favours. Investigators found €22 billion in Swiss bank accounts held by Bárcenas. He was jailed pending trial in June 2013 and released on bail last January.

In 2013, Spain slipped 10 places in the annual corruption perception ranking of Transparency International to 40th position out of 177 countries. Its score of 59 was six points lower. The nearer to 100, the cleaner the country. It improved a little in the 2014 ranking.

As a result of the crisis, Spain has seen a huge change in public attitudes to corruption. This is a long overdue and healthy phase in Spain’s transition from Franco’s authoritarian state to democratic accountability. Spain finally fell into line with the rest of the European Union at the end of last year when its first ever Transparency Law came into effect. The new law – almost 40 years after the end of the Franco dictatorship – only operates at the state level (it will be be extended to municipal and regional levels, where most corruption occurs, this December).

The economy is finally growing and the banks sailed through the health tests imposed on them by the European Central Bank. The bail-out programme for banks was exited last year and Spain’s multinationals continue to do well. Santander, Spain’s and the euro zone’s largest bank, has branches in Oxford and Banco de Sabadell made a takeover offer this month for Lloyds TSB’s 630 branches.

Thanks to impressive growth in exports and a recovery in domestic demand the economy will grow by more than 2.5% this year, the fastest rate among the large European economies including the UK.

Average house prices rose marginally last year for the first time since 2008, and the number of housing starts, which peaked at an absurd 865,500 in 2006, was a mere 35,000. House prices are around 35% lower than in 2008, and there are still around 500,000 unsold new homes, roughly the equivalent of two years’ shortfall in the UK. Whereas the UK has a dearth of houses, Spain has a glut. Perhaps a deal could be struck between the two countries, under which Spain would ship its empty homes to the UK in return for the UK returning Gibraltar to Spain.

Unemployment is finally beginning to decline, but will remain above 20% until 2017, according to all the forecasts, and 60% of the 5.4 million jobless have been unemployed for two years or more.

Not only is unemployment still very high, but around one-quarter of those aged between 15 and 29 are not in employment, education or training. These people – many of whom dropped out of school for the construction sector during the boom years – form a “lost generation”. Not only are they jobless, but they are so poorly qualified that their prospects of finding meaningful employment are slim.

This year will be a hectic one for the Spanish electorate. It kicked off a week ago with elections in Andalusia, which were won by the Socialists who have ruled the region for 33 years. More significantly, these elections confirmed the change in the mould of politics in post-Franco Spain, dominated at the national level by the Socialists and the Popular Party. Two new upstart parties, the anti-austerity Podemos and the centrist Ciudadanos, took away votes from both the Socialists and the Popular Party and gained 15% and 9%, respectively, of votes. The Popular Party and the Socialists gained between them 62% of the vote, down from 80% in 2012.

The Andalusian election will be followed by more regional and nationwide local elections in May, an early election to elect a new parliament in Catalonia, which is moving ahead with its push for independence, and a general election in December.

If the opinion polls are to be believed Spain’s essentially two-party system since the end of the Franco dictatorship in 1975 is set to take a beating in a four horse race. Podemos (which means “We can” – reminiscent of Barack Obama’s slogan “Yes, we can”) is forecast to win the general election. I have my doubts.

Podemos is a fascinating phenomenon. You should not draw too many parallels with its ally Syriza, which won Greece’s election in January. For a start, Spain’s crisis is nowhere near as profound as that in Greece, which is the nearest we have to a failed state in Europe.

There is a lot of anger in Spain and Podemos is successfully channeling it. The outrage at the rate of unemployment, austerity measures, the collapse of savings banks, etc, came to a head on May 15, 2011 when tens of thousands of mainly young people occupied the Puerta del Sol square in the heart of Madrid and set up camp for a month. This grassroots movement, known as 15-M and articulated through mobile phones and the Internet, quickly gathered supporters around Spain and, incidentally, inspired the Occupy Wall Street movement. Supporters ranged from anti-capitalists, workers who had lost their jobs, and pensioners hit by cuts to their payments, to homeowners whose properties had been repossessed because they could not pay their mortgages and university students who saw no future.

The movement of los indignados (the indignant ones) had no particular ideology at that time and caught the political class by surprise. Its supporters were united by their rage at the two main political parties, the Socialists and the Popular Party. Opinion polls regularly show politicians as the least respected group and part of Spain’s problems instead of the channel to solve them.

The most memorable slogan to come out of this movement was the one shouted in front of Congress when protestors waved loaves of bread above their heads and screamed: “There isn’t enough bread for so many chorizos!” A chorizo is a swindler or cheat and not just a spicy sausage, often sliced and served in a bocadillo.

Podemos, which became a political party just over a year ago, stunned the status quo last May by winning 1.2 million votes (8% of the total) and five seats in the European elections. For the first time since the re-establishment of democracy, the Popular Party and the Socialists captured between them less than 50% of the total votes in an election. Like Britain, Spain’s political landscape is changing, but, unlike this country, Spain does not have a UKIP style party – which is quite remarkable given the influx of immigrants who have been successfully absorbed.

Podemos is attracting voters from across the political spectrum: mainly from the Socialists and the United Left but also from the Popular Party who are fed up with a political establishment that Podemos calls a “cast”. To be called part of the “cast” has become the greatest insult that anyone can receive.

Ciudadanos is a Barcelona-based centre-right party opposed to the movement in the region for a separate Catalan state. The party’s influence is beginning to spread outside Catalonia, particularly among those who previously voted for the Popular Party and are looking for an alternative.
Its leader Alberto Rivera summed up the differences between Ciudadanos and Podemos by saying that whereas his party wants justice, Podemos wants revenge.

If the voter intention polls turn out to be correct at the general election then no party would be able to form a government on its own and the options would be a minority government, a coalition or gridlock which is what worries many people. Spain has had two experiences of minority governments in the last 30 years, but never a coalition. I believe I am right in saying it is the only country in the European Union not to have had a coalition government.

You should not read too much into this opinion poll because the rules of the proportional electoral system need to be taken into account. A complex formula ensures that any party that does not reach 25% of the votes will be under-represented in parliament, while the rules ensure that regionalist parties are well represented at the national level. These factors could constrain Podemos and Ciudadanos. Most of their supporters live in big cities: if they cannot boost their rural vote they will not do as well on election day as the polls suggest.

Podemos is led by the 36-year-old pony-tailed and media-savvy Pablo Iglesias, a political science lecturer at Madrid’s Complutense University, where the 15-M movement was born. The faculty of political sciences is well known for its long standing commitment to far-left ideology.
He was a member of the Communist Youth Union of Spain, part of the anti-globalisation movement and an admirer of Venezuela’s autocratic and economically populist Hugo Chávez.

The party’s economic programme, more a wish list than anything else, began with radical demands for a 35-hour workweek, a guaranteed basic income for the needy, retirement at 60, laws to prevent profitable companies from firing people, a fairer distribution of wages, abolishing private hospitals in order to have a fully state-controlled health care system and a restructuring of Spain’s debt with its international lenders.

Realising that much of this is not practical and potentially alienating some voters, Podemos has softened its programme and moved it toward Nordic style social democracy.

Juan Carlos Monedero, the party’s chief ideologue, refers maliciously to Spain’s transition to democracy as the “regime of 1978”, in allusion to the constitution of that year. For Spaniards the term regime is associated with the Franco regime, and to equate the transition with the dictatorship is dangerous and confusing for those with no memory of it.

As someone who lived through and reported on Spain’s remarkably smooth transition, between 1975 and 1978, there is no question that it has given Spain its longest period of prosperity, freedom and peace in its history. There were very real fears at the time of a right wing backlash by the armed forces – indeed there was an attempted and bloodless coup in 1981 in an attempt to turn back the clock.

Of course, the transition was not perfect. The deal negotiated by Francoist politicians and the democratic opposition left in place the bulk of civil servants, the judiciary and the security forces, as one would expect since the transition was negotiated and not a rupture with the past. With hindsight it is easy to criticise the transition, particularly those who, like Podemos’ leaders, were either not born at the time or were teenagers.

We should not forget, however, that unlike say Chile and South Africa, which also moved to democracy, Spain’s transition came out of not only a dictatorship, which lasted 36 years, but also an horrendous civil war between 1936 and 1939. The blame for Spain’s ills such as corruption, massive unemployment and a poor education system cannot be laid at the door of the transition.

One of the main defects of Spain’s democracy is the colonization by the two main parties of institutions, including the governing body of the judiciary and the Court of Auditors. This has deprived Spain of an effective system of checks and balances and led to a considerable degree of impunity.

Hardly anyone in Spain accepts their political responsibilities and resigns. My Spanish friend were gobsmacked when Chris Huhne, the former Liberal Democrat minister, resigned from the Cabinet and his seat in parliament after it was discovered that his then wife had taken his speeding points. Nothing remotely approaching that happens in Spain, and for far worse offences.

If you think I am too critical of my adopted country, you should listen to Spaniards. As the great poet Antonio Machado said, in the mouth of Juan de Mairena, “Hay que ser español para decir las cosas que se dicen contra España/You have to be a Spaniard to say the things that are said against Spain.”

Political reform is badly needed, particularly of the closed-list system in elections that gives so much power to a party’s apparatus at the expense of accountability, and makes politicians sycophantic. Whereas the UK has a first passed the post system in elections, Spain has proportional representation. Under the closed-list system, as opposed to the open list, voters vote for the party, and not a particular candidate, and therefore the list as a whole. Candidates are elected in the order they appear on the list (as decided by the party) until all the seats have been filled. Closed party lists parties stifle independent and minority opinion within their ranks. As all the power over who gets seats lies with the party machine, so too does the power to voice opinions. Closed party lists offer very little in the way of voter choice: all the power, save that of choosing a party for government, resides with the party.

As well as the transition, the institution of the monarchy is also under scrutiny in some quarters. The abdication of King Juan Carlos last year triggered demonstrations in favour of restoring the republic that was defeated in 1939 at the end of the Civil War. The republic had been declared in 1931 when Juan Carlos’s grandfather, Alfonso XIII, went into exile after municipal elections showed widespread support for a republic. General Franco, who won the Civil War, skipped a generation and appointed Juan Carlos his successor and he admirably piloted Spain’s transition to democracy.

The corruption scandal in the royal family, involving the king’s son-in-law and daughter, and Juan Carlos’s ill-timed elephant-hunting trip to Botswana at a time of national austerity and after saying he was kept awake at night worrying about youth unemployment, tarnished the monarchy’s image. Juan Carlos’ health is also ailing.

His daughter Cristina is charged with two counts of being an accessory to tax fraud and her husband is alleged to have embezzled €5.8 million in public funds. The couple are in the process of selling their mansion in Barcelona, which was bought for €6 million (plus another €3 million in renovations) and raised questions of where the money came from.

When I interviewed Juan Carlos in 1977 at a time when he was still referred to as Juan Carlos el Tonto (Juan Carlos the Stupid) and Juan Carlos el Breve (Juan Carlos the Shortlived), he joked about himself. “Why was I crowned in a submarine? Because deep down, I am not so stupid.” The king showed his astuteness again by abdicating, although it can be seen as a humiliation as he had always insisted he would not do so, and, like Franco, die with “las botas puestas” (with his boots on).

Spain has far more important problems to resolve than the form of its state. Furthermore, parliamentary monarchies are generally cheaper to maintain than republics. The budget of Spain’s royal’s household is £6.4 million, that of France’s Élysée presidential palace is £100 million. A Felipe González or a José María Aznar, former prime ministers, would, as presidents, not be above the political fray in very partisan Spain as much as a Juan Carlos was or his son Felipe VI is proving to be.

Felipe VI, whom I know a little as he is the honorary chairman of the think tank for whom I work, is very well prepared and already we are seeing a different and more inclusive style and greater transparency in the royal household. His approval rating has risen since assuming the throne.

Lastly, there is the problem of Catalonia, Spain’s economic powerhouse, which unlike Scotland was barred from holding an referendum on the issue because it is unconstitutional. Nevertheless, the Catalan government defied the Constitutional Court and went ahead last November with a pseudo non-binding referendum, manned by volunteers, in which 2.3 million people voted out of 6.3 million eligible voters. 1.8 million people voted in favour of independence and 500,000 against. Supports of independence hailed it as a victory, although the voter turnout was only 37%. Artur Mas, Catalonia’s premier, faces charges related to the holding of this illegal referendum.

Catalonia, with its own language, history and culture, has long had secessionist aspirations, but they did not come to a head until a landmark ruling in 2010 by the Constitutional Court which struck down parts of a new statute setting out the relationship between Catalonia and Spain. The statute, which would have further bolstered Catalan autonomy, had been approved by the Spanish and Catalan parliaments, and was backed by a referendum in the region. Catalan nationalists felt betrayed and the independence movement took off. The push for a separate state has also been intensified by Spain’s crisis which has highlighted the perceived unfairness of Catalan tax transfers to the rest of the country and led, so pro-independence supporters say, to tougher spending cuts in the region than otherwise would be the case.

The central government in Madrid and Catalonia remain on a collision course. Mas has called an early election to be held in September which is intended to serve as a plebiscite on independence. This is a gamble. The last time he called an early election, it backfired on his centre-right CiU coalition which lost 12 seats. The more radical and historically pro-independence Republican Left of Catalonia won 11 more seats and this time round is forecast to win the election. Mas had hoped to persuade the Republican Left to field a joint list of candidates, but it rejected the idea.

Catalan independence would put an end to Spain. Not only is its contribution, in terms of people and economic output, far greater than that of Scotland, but were it to secede from Spain it could have a domino effect, particularly in the Basque Country, traditionally the main focus of secessionist tensions in Spain.

Some of you may be wondering, Catalonia apart, what holds Spain together. To a significant extent, this is due to the wonderful extended family-based network, effectively a cornerstone of the welfare state, where parents and grandparents play a key role in times of crisis, and Spaniards’ tremendous capacity of resistance and innate common sense. A crisis of Spain’s proportions with a UK-style family structure would have produced considerably more social conflict than has been the case. Long may the family thrive in Spain.

The life and works of Barea epitomize Spain’s 20th century tragedy, particularly that of decent, independent-thinking intellectuals whose lives were shattered by the country’s Civil War between 1936 and 1939. Barea was to some extent part of what the historian Paul Preston calls the “third Spain”, the millions belonging neither to the extreme right nor the extreme left, who were caught up in a conflict they neither caused nor desired.

Barea was born in Badajoz, near the border with Portugal, in 1897, two years after my father, which, strangely, makes him feel less distant in time than otherwise might be. At a very early age, after his father died, Barea moved to Madrid where his mother Leonor earned her living by washing soldiers’ clothes in the Manzanares River and by working as a servant in the house of her brother. In the words of Barea’s paternal grandmother: “When your mother became a widow, all God did for her was to leave her alone in the hotel with two duros in her pocket and your father stiff and cold in his bed.” A duro was five pesetas, the former Spanish currency.

Unlike his two brothers and sister, Arturo lived with his well-to-do uncle and aunt and at the weekend would rejoin the family. From an early age, he was caught between two worlds.

The evocative opening of The Forge, the first book of his autobiographical trilogy, which was first published in English in 1941 by Faber and Faber, three years after he fled Spain and arrived in England, plunges the reader into his childhood.

The wind blew into the two hundred pairs of breeches and filled them. To me they looked like fat men without a head, swinging from the clothes-lines of the drying-yard. We boys ran along the rows of white trousers and slapped their bulging seats. Señora Encarna was furious. She chased us with the wooden beater she used to pound the dirty grease out of her washing. We took refuge in the maze of streets and squares formed by four hundred damp sheets, Sometimes she caught one of us; then the others would begin to throw mud pellets at the breeches. They left stains as though somebody had dirtied his pants, and we imagined the thrashing some people would get for behaving like pigs.

The trilogy, known as The Forging of a Rebel, marvellously translated by Barea’s second wife Ilsa, is the finest and most honest literary testament to the forces that shaped Spain and, in particular the author, in the first 40 years of the 20th century: the stultifying orthodoxy of the all powerful Catholic Church, the corrupt army, extreme poverty, sexual mores, the world of work. There is no better way of understanding the old reactionary Spain and what led to the Civil War.

The trilogy did not appear in Spanish until 1951 and then in Buenos Aires. It was not published in Spain until 1978, three years after the end of the Franco dictatorship.

Barea left his Jesuit school at 13. He was very intelligent and sensitive and could have been a charity scholarship boy and stayed on, but his atheist grandmother would not stand for it as she feared he would be lured into becoming a priest. Instead, he went to work in a costume jewellery shop where he also slept. He lost that position when he reacted angrily to a ticking off by the owner. He returned to school to study accountancy and joined the French bank Crédit Lyonnais and the Socialist General Union of Workers. This was followed by a series of jobs during World War 1, during which Spain was neutral, including being a travelling buyer for a German merchant, buying diamonds in France for re-sale in Spain and Latin America. At the age of 18, Barea was staying in hotels in Paris with money to spare. He then used the money inherited from his uncle to open a small co-operative to make toys and dolls.

Barea served his compulsory military service in Ceuta and Morocco, rising to the rank of sergeant and seeing action and plenty of corruption in the Spanish army in the Rif War during the early 1920s, all of it recounted in The Track, the second part of the trilogy. He then headed an office registering patents and in 1924 entered an unhappy marriage, which produced four children.

By then he had developed a deep sense of injustice. Many years later Barea wrote of that period that he was “no use as a capitalist. I don’t want to exploit the stupidity and wretchedness of other people and I don’t want them to exploit me. I can’t change the world, at least that is what they tell me, and the socialists say I can’t belong to them after being a boss. So now, what? I have to do something completely different to show the world its true face.”

In the foreword to The Track, Barea set out his artistic ambition. “I wanted to discover how and why I became what I am, to understand the forces and emotions behind my present reactions. I tried to find them, not through a psychological analysis, but by calling up the images and sensations I had once seen and felt, and later on absorbed and re-edited.” His background and wide working experience and his straddling of two worlds – the cockroach-infested garret of his mother whom he adored and the bourgeois circles in which he later moved – placed him in an ideal position to do this. He did not feel comfortable with either world and was very much an outsider.

In August 1936, after General Franco’s uprising against the democratically elected government of the Republic that had been declared in 1931 following King Alfonso XIII’s departure into exile, Barea was working in the Office of Foreign Press Censorship in Madrid and had published little apart from some poetry and a few short stories. When Franco’s forces were at the gates of the city in November the Republican government moved to the safer city of Valencia, but Barea remained in besieged Madrid as head of censorship. The front line of fighting was less than a mile from his office.

As well as working in the censorship office, Barea became one of the first frequent radio broadcasters in Spain, acquiring some fame as la voz desconocida de Madrid (the “unknown voice of Madrid”), where he spoke about the bravery of the common people fighting fascism. He broadcast from a mattress-muffled cellar in an attempt to reduce the background noise of the constant bombing of Madrid. The Clash, the third part of the trilogy, recounts Barea’s civil war experiences.

He witnessed the storming of the Montaña barracks shortly after the civil war started and the terrible massacre there, the kangaroo courts set up by anarchists which sentenced opponents to death on the flimsiest of evidence – under the euphemism of “taking the person for a ride”. This usually meant being taken to the Casa del Campo and shot.

Aided by Ilsa Kulcsar, a multi lingual married Austrian who came to Madrid to defend the Republican cause, Barea did his best to relax the censorship. The two began an affair.

The censorship was aimed at eliminating the slightest suggestion of anything other than a Republican victory, but was often counter productive and largely unworkable. It is said that the first casualty of war is truth; Barea and Ilsa sought to correct that at the expense of harassment from communist authorities for taking too independent a line.

Herbert Matthews of the New York Times evaded the censorship by having the Paris bureau telephone him at a time when the censors were having dinner. When Franco’s forces split Republican Spain in two, the government tried to delay the news getting out. Vincent Sheenan of the New York Herald Tribune said the word “censored” every time he reached a part of what he was reading out over the telephone that had been pencilled out. As Sheenan later recounted his story “bristled with the ominous word (censored) in italics and consequently looked fully as disastrous for the Republic as the events had actually been.” Other famous correspondents that Barea dealt with included Ernest Hemingway, Martha Gellhorn and John dos Passos.

Barea owed his job as a censor to a communist contact of his, but he was not himself a communist, unlike Ilsa who had been a member of the Party in Vienna during the 1920s. She left the party disillusioned some time before she went to Spain. In Vienna Ilsa knew Kim Philby, who later became a double agent before defecting to the Soviet Union in 1963. Philby covered Franco’s side of the Civil War for The Times, a job he took in order to burnish his credentials as a supposed fascist sympathiser and which led to his recruitment by MI6.

Barea found himself in perpetual conflict between the contradictory orders from the communist-dominated bureaucracy in Valencia and the War Commissariat in Madrid. He despaired at the divisions and sub-divisions of the Left and at the violent anti-clericalism. He witnessed the burning of a church and of the Jesuit Escuela Pía which he had attended. He later wrote: “I went home in profound distress. It was impossible to applaud the violence. I was convinced that the Church of Spain was an evil which had to be eradicated. But I revolted against this stupid destruction.” He was horrified when he found out that a childhood friend went out with a group of anarchists killing supposed “Fascists” in order to disprove allegations that he himself was a Fascist.

Barea illuminates one of the great moral problems of the Civil War: did tortures and executions by fascists justify the use of the same means by communists and anarchists in the struggle to defend the democratically elected Republic? His answer was a principled “no” at a time when that answer could potentially have made him a victim of a Republican zone killing.

Barea lived through the shelling of Madrid. The Telefónica building in the Gran Vía where he worked was hit by over 120 shells. One day in the street he saw “a lump of grey mass, the size of a child’s fist, was flattened out against the glass pane of a show-window and kept on twitching. Small, quivering drops of grey matter were spattered around it. A fine thread of watery blood was trickling down the pane, away from the grey-white lump with the tiny red veins, in which the torn nerves were still lashing out.”

It was a scrap of human brain.

“I wanted to cry out… If I was to stay on fighting against my nerves and my mind…I had to do something more… So I continued to write, and I began to speak on the radio.”

The American writer Dos Passos described Barea at that time as “underslept and underfed” and “cadaverous”. He suffered from shell shock and had a nervous breakdown. In November 1937 he and Ilsa left Madrid for Barcelona where he finished his first book Valor y Miedo (Courage and Fear), a collection of pieces of social realism propaganda, many of which had begun as radio broadcasts. While in the Catalan capital, Barea met Ilsa’s Austrian husband, Leopold, a Stalinist agent and interrogator, who helped them obtain exit visas, enabling them to leave Spain in February 1938. Leopold’s sudden death in the January had enabled Barea, who had divorced his wife, to marry Ilsa. The Catalan judge who married them in Barcelona told them: “One of you is a widow, the other divorced. What could I say to you that you don’t know?” A week later they were driven to the border with France in a car belonging to the British Embassy. The car broke down. The police came to their rescue, driving them to the frontier with the small Union Jack taken from the Embassy car placed on the bonnet.

In Paris, to Barea’s wry amusement, he and Ilsa stayed in the Hôtel de l’Alhambre in Rue de l’Alhambre in Paris which if you pronounce it the Spanish way becomes Hôtel del Hambre in Rue del Hambre, Hunger Hotel in Hunger Street. They practically starved. Had he stayed in Spain, he almost certainly would have been executed after the civil war as so many people were, and there was a very real risk that Ilsa might have been murdered during the war as she was suspected of being a Trotskyist, and therefore considered a spy by Stalinists. This was the fate that met the POUM leader Andrés Nin who was skinned alive under torture in 1937 when there was a war within a war on the Republican side.

The Bareas arrived in England in March 1939, the month the Spanish Republic collapsed. Barea was, in his own words, “spiritually smashed … I disembarked with nothing, My life was broken in two. I had no perspectives, no country, no home, no job.” What he did have with him was a draft of the first chapters of The Forge, written on a typewriter given to him in Paris by Sefton Delmer, the correspondent in Spain of The Daily Express.

Delmer had persuaded his newspaper to publish a story of Barea’s in 1937 about a militiaman who made a fly his pet, and had provided the headline: “This story was written under shellfire by the Madrid censor – who lost his inhibitions about writing by censoring our dispatches.”

He was a nervous wreck: for several years the sounding of sirens to warn of German bombing raids after World War Two started in September made him vomit as it reminded him of the shelling of Madrid. He considered emigrating to Mexico and submitted a request to the Mexican Embassy in Paris. I have here a copy of the list of Spanish Republicans who applied to emigrate under the category of “without funds to travel.” Others on the list included Republicans held in makeshift concentration camps in appalling conditions on beaches in south east France after they had crossed the border on foot.

This could have been Barea’s fate; in this sense he was lucky to have made it to England where he felt very much at home. As he wrote: “More than expected and more than seemed likely in a Spaniard, I took to English life at once, and fell in love with the English countryside.” The Spectator published in August 1939 his first article in English, translated, as always, by Ilsa. Barea could read English, but not speak it very well. It was called “A Spaniard in Hertfordshire” as he was living in the village of Puckeridge.
We have among us today, the son of Barea’s doctor when he lived in that village.
Here are two extracts from it.

It took me a long time to believe that the policeman’s home was that ordinary, nice little house in our road, with an average garden of tulips and wallflowers—or rather sweet peas and lilies at present. The sign ” Herts Constabulary” convinced me, but the tall young red-cheeked fellow in shirt-sleeves tying up sweet peas looked like something out of a story to me. Till I saw him in full uniform on his bike—on his bike! And I kept thinking of the grim Spanish Guardia Civil on their black horses, under their bicorne hats, who always have to go in pairs because they have the inveterate hatred of the whole countryside against them. Spanish country police live in barracks, completely isolated from normal village life. Their wives come under barracks discipline, too. One can’t imagine them taking off their uniforms even for going to bed. “Their souls of lacquered leather,” says the poet Federico Garcia Lorca of them. When our foreigners’ registration cards were issued, we were not ordered to fetch them at the police-station in the little county town but the constable brought all papers to our house. Did he know that this little thing affected us as the best possible propaganda for the English system?

He continues further down the article:

What I am quite proud of is the fact that I have now mastered the rules of the game played each morning when people meet in the street : “Lovely morning, Sir.”
“Very nice day, isn’t it?”
At the beginning I tried earnestly to say that it looked like rain when it did. But after having heard many times a reproachful: “Oh, don’t say that, Sir,” I understand that here I have come across a national complex. Now I answer always : “Yes, indeed, a very nice day,” even if the shower hangs already over our heads. After all, these are still “nice,” peaceful days which I, the refugee, can appreciate more than others

I sent this article to Harry Eyres, little knowing he would cite it in a recent Slow Lane column when he wrote about a country’s values, in this case British ones, and how they come more sharply into focus when seen by an outsider, as he or she can contrast them with those of their native land.
Barea became a British citizen in 1948.

Gerald Brenan, the author of The Spanish Labyrinth, still one of the most perceptive accounts of the background to the civil war, and whom I met at his home in Spain in 1976, knew Barea in England and wrote this vivid portrait of him. “He was a dark, slight man with a lean, rather worn face – not in the least the type of Spanish intellectual, but suggesting rather a mechanic. The sort of man one would run into in any Madrid café or bar. He talked well in a serious, straightforward way, but needed frequent glasses of beer to keep him going. He enjoyed talking in pubs with local people and growing vegetables in his garden, but his experience in the war and the spate of executions that followed it had saddened him. He was very like his books, truthful and serious and without recriminations or hatred.”

Ilsa’s linguistic skills quickly got her a job in August 1939 at the BBC Monitoring Service at Wood Norton in Evesham, and their precarious life began to improve. They were joined by Ilsa’s parents, Alice and Valentin Pollak. Her father, a Jewish social democrat, had fled Austria as a result of the Nazi threat. A little over a year later Barea landed a job with the BBC Latin American Service, after he was rejected by the BBC Spanish service as being too compromised politically.

Between 1940 and 1957 Barea gave more than 800 15-minute broadcasts, under the pseudonym “Juan de Castilla” in order to protect his family in Spain. His starting brief was to counter Nazi propaganda in South America during the Second World War by presenting a positive view of British life, and there was a continuing need to do this after the war, particularly in Argentina.

These reflective monologues, often observing and describing English life from his vantage-point as a sympathetic outsider, regularly topped the listeners’ annual poll. Barea liked to frequent pubs – his favourite one in Faringdon was The Volunteer – as it brought him into contact with a wide spectrum of society. A regular feature of his talks was “la tabernita de Frank”, an archetypal village pub run by Frank where the issues of the day were debated.

For those of you who understand Spanish, I recommend the book that Nigel Townson put together called Palabras Recobradas and published in 2000, which gathers together some of these talks and other material including literary criticism. Sadly, none of the BBC recordings remain as they were all destroyed. Ilsa’s niece Uli Rushy-Smith has had some of them translated and is trying to find a publisher for them. Here is an extract from one of them about a tramp, a figure that has almost disappeared.

Around this time every year, the same tramp passes through my village. He’s closer to seventy than to fifty: I calculate that he must be about sixty-five years old. Tall and thin, he is made up of rope-like muscles and sinews.

It seems that in the house where I live, it has always been traditional for this English tramp to call at the door and ask respectfully for some hot water to make tea; although, as a new tenant, I gave him a shock the first year that he met me, we became friends from that time onwards and we have kept up the tradition. It started like this:

‘ Isn’t Mrs So-and-So (the previous inhabitant) at home?’ he asked.
‘No’, I said, ‘she died almost a year ago, and I live here now’.
In one hand he held his cap and in the other a smoke-blackened tin. He explained, stammering a little, ‘It’s just that, you know, the lady here was in the habit of giving me some boiling water to make my tea, when I come through these parts. She was a lovely person who always looked out for poor folk’.
‘And what would you like? Water to make tea with?’
‘If it’s no trouble…’
I invited him into the kitchen and offered him the teapot.
‘Ha! No, sir. The only thing I’m after is the boiling water. I’ve got the tea along with me, with the sugar and everything. I like to drink it my own way, you know?’
The man went ahead and filled his tin with boiling water and headed out to a field near the house. He sat on a slope and drank his tea from one of those tin canteens used by the soldiers of every army. I took a plate with a few slices of cake and went to take it out to him.

The 1940s were an intensely creative period for Barea. Shortly after the first volume of the triology came out in 1941, he published Struggle for the Spanish Soul which examined the ideological roots of Francoism and appeared alongside Orwell’s The Lion and the Unicorn in the Searchlight series. Orwell had admired The Forge, describing Barea as “one of the most valuable of the literary acquisitions that England has made as a result of Fascist persecution.”

The typescript and first proof of this book were destroyed during a German bombing raid of London. Fred Warburg, his publisher, wrote to Barea.

“ I am sorry to have to tell you that the printers who had in hand the setting of your book have been utterly destroyed in the Plymouth blitz. In the course of the raid, not only was stock destroyed but the typescripts, including the typescript of your book, were lost. That is to say, they were kept every night in the safe and the safe was buried under the ruins and has not yet been located. It may, of course, be that when it is located it can be opened and the typescript inside may be intact but for practical purposes we must assume that your typescript is lost, especially as there is no telling how long it may be before the safe can be found.”

Luckily, Barea had a duplicate typescript.

The book was followed by the second and third parts of the trilogy, a pioneering study of Lorca and a pamphlet called Spain in the post-war world, published by the Fabian Society. The Forging of a Rebel was translated into nine European languages, and in the late 1940s and early 1950s Barea was fifth in the list of the most translated Spanish writers, after Cervantes, Ortega y Gasset, Blasco Ibáñez and Lorca.

Barea was also a brave and perceptive literary critic, notably in his long and devastating review of Hemingway’s novel For Whom the Bell Tolls, published in the magazine Horizon, about the Civil War. The review is titled “Not Spain but Hemingway” and in it Barea attributes the author’s failure to render the reality of the war in imaginative writing to “the fact that Hemingway was always a spectator who wanted to be an actor, and who wanted to write as if he had been an actor.” By actor Barea means protagonist. “Yet it is not enough to look on,” the review continued. “To write truthfully you must live, and you must feel what you are living.” Barea achieved what Hemingway did not.

In 1947, Barea and Ilsa moved to Middle Lodge at Buscot Park on the edge of Faringdon, a house provided by Gavin Henderson, the second Lord Faringdon, who was a surprising supporter of the Spanish Republican cause. The Eton and Oxford educated lord and in his youth one of the “bright young things” made famous in the novels of his contemporary, Evelyn Waugh, became a Socialist. He converted his Rolls Royce into an ambulance and joined a field hospital in Aragon run by British volunteers in the Civil War. Barea probably met the lord via the Labour Party and/or the Fabian Society.

In 1938, nine years before Barea arrived at Buscot Park, the lord was approached by Poppy Vulliamy who told him that as a socialist he should be sharing his mansion with a group of homeless and “difficult” Basque children. They were part of almost 4,000 children, aged between 5 and 16, who had come to Britain in 1937 on the ageing ship Habana after the aerial bombing of Guernica by German and Italian forces supporting Franco. This is still the largest single influx of refugees into Britain.

Poppy had found them a temporary home in a derelict rectory in Suffolk and later at Thame, where they spent a cold winter. As Martin Murphy recounted in an article in the TLS published in 2013, the lord was not prepared to go that far, but he did make available a lodge beside the lake on his estate, which became known as Basque House.

The Spanish poet Luis Cernuda, stranded in England by the Civil War, joined the Basque colony as a teacher. One of the boys who was dying in the Radcliffe Infirmary asked to see Cernuda in order to hear him read a poem. “Please don’t go”, the boy said when the poem ended, “but I’m going to turn to the wall so you won’t see me die.” Seconds later, the boy was dead. The boy’s death inspired Cernuda’s “Elegía a un muchacho vasco muerto en Inglaterra” (Elegy for a Basque boy who died in England), which contains the following line, as translated by Martin: “You turned your head to the wall with the gesture of a child afraid to betray frailty of purpose.”

Barea liked to cook and was very hospitable. It is said that he introduced the paella to Faringdon. One person who benefited from the Spanish cuisine, and is with us today, remembers arriving at Middle Lodge in the 1950s for lunch and being offered calamares (squid). As David Buckle told me, “Being a bit suspicious, I decided not to eat it and Arturo made me an omelette. A few weeks later I arrived and Arturo met me at the door and told me he had a nice surprise for me. He blind-folded me and led me to the kitchen. I sat down in my normal place and Arturo said he had cooked something special for me and hoped I would like it. Having tasted it, I said how nice it was. He then said, ‘remove your blind-fold.’ To my surprise I discovered it was the food I had previously refused. I said it was marvellous and enjoyed it many times thereafter”. David was a shop steward at Cowley, and Barea often wanted to know what was going on in the car industry in Oxford and would question him.

In 1951, Barea published a novel, The Broken Root, about a Spanish Republican in exile, like himself, who returns to Spain after 10 years to discover what happened to his family and leaves again as he finds he is a stranger in his own country.

In 1956, Ilsa invited her orphaned niece Uli to leave Vienna and live with them at Middle Lodge.

That same year the BBC sent Barea on a 56-day tour of Argentina, Chile and Uruguay where he had a large following. When the Franco regime got wind of the trip, it sought to denigrate Barea by calling him “the Englishman Arturo Beria” in reference to Stalin’s state security chief, Beria. This was not the first time the Spanish authorities sought to discredit Barea. In 1952, Barea received a letter from George Pendle, a BBC correspondent, who had included Barea in an article on Spanish culture.

“To my astonishment the very slight reference to yourself in the enclosed article on Spanish reviews has brought me a letter from the cultural authorities in Madrid stating that you are not a Spanish author at all. These people inform me that you are no more a Spanish writer than Santayana, or than Conrad was a Polish writer. They say that you dictate to your wife (in some language whose identity they avoid divulging), and she puts your thoughts into English. With your permission, I should like to refute this official statement and I wonder, therefore, whether you would be willing to tell me how, in fact, you do work.”

There was no mystery to how Barea worked. He typed in Spanish – English keyboards have no accents so Barea had to put them in by hand – sitting opposite Ilsa at the same table. Then Ilsa read his texts, and sometimes they discussed some points, and when Arturo was happy with it, Ilsa translated it into English and or German.

Barea died in his sleep on Christmas Eve 1957, aged 60. The anonymous obituary in The Times, written by his friend Joan Gili, a Catalan bookseller who lived near Oxford, said Barea’s work “will last for its high artistic quality and as a human document of our century. His outstanding qualities were his intellectual honesty and a passionate sincerity, qualities which imparted to his work a realism devoid of vulgarity, as through seen through an innocent eye.”

In 2010, my wife and came across Barea’s deteriorated commemorative stone, a rough-hewn lump of granite, in the annexe of Faringdon Churchyard. Finding it had become something of an obsession, and it took three attempts during our infrequent visits to the UK as we did not know there was an annexe to the main churchyard at All Saints Church, until Natalia Benjamin, who runs the Basque Children of ’37 Association from her home near Oxford, put us on the right path.

Next to it are the graves of Ilsa’s parents where Barea’s ashes had been spread. The stone to Barea was placed after Ilsa’s death in Vienna in 1973 by Olive Renier who befriended them in their first years in exile. Years later Renier wrote: “I put up a stone, but could find no words to express my feelings for those four people, whose fate (though they could be said to be among the fortunate ones) was symbolic of the giant lost causes of our generation – the fate of Spain, the fate of the Jews, the fate of social democracy in Germany, in Italy, in Europe as a whole.”

Back in Madrid, I told several Spanish friends and admirers about the stone and we decided to pay for it to be restored. And rather than try to obtain a English Heritage blue plaque to be placed at Middle Lodge, which very few people would see, we also organized a plaque for the facade of The Volunteer, Barea’s favourite pub in the centre of Faringdon.

The plaque was designed by the octogenarian Herminio Martínez, one of the 4,000 Basque children who had been evacuated from Bilbao and stayed in England.

Talking of memorials, I see that plans are afoot to unveil one in Oxford’s Bonn Square later this year in honour of the 31 known volunteers from Oxfordshire who laid their lives on the line in defence of the Spanish Republic. Six were killed. Donations are still needed. If anyone feels like making a donation Chris Farman, the co-author of a book on these volunteers, is with us today.

Barea never returned to Spain, but his Underwood typewriter did along with the obituary of him in The Times stuffed inside the well-worn typewriter case. After a very well-known Spanish novelist wrote about my gestures, an English woman who had been given the typewriter long after Barea died contacted him to ask if he would like to have it. It now has pride of place in his home in Madrid.

After Barea died, Ilsa and her niece Uli moved to London. Ilsa returned to Vienna in the late 1960s. Uli was left the archive and will donate it to the Bodleian Library next year. Uli was hoping to be with us today but could not make it.

For those of you interested in reading Barea’s trilogy, I recommend you buy the single volume paperback edition published by Granta. Anyone wishing to know more about Barea’s life should read Michael Eaude’s critical biography Triumph at the Midnight of the Century, and Amanda Vaill’s Hotel Florida which features Barea and Hemingway, among others, whose lives revolved around that Madrid hotel during the Civil War.

My article in the Oxford Times, ahead of my talk on Barea at the Oxford Literary Festival on 28 March.
http://www.oxfordtimes.co.uk/news/opinions/first_person/11805264.One_of_civil_strife___s_great_narrators/

Click on the title for details of my talk at the Oxford Literary Festival on 29 March.
http://oxfordliteraryfestival.org/literature-events/2015/march-29/spains-crisis-the-state-of-play

A very brief participation.
http://www.npr.org/2015/01/28/382056541/anti-austerity-party-in-spain-gathers-support-over-the-past-year