Eu Referendum: Final Word

EU Referendum: Playing The Game

One of the things that strikes me with respect to EU-UK relations is that we don't understand the game that is being played. And I am a football fan. I remember, as an 11-12 year-old, that the Hungarians came to Wembley to play England, who had never been beaten on home soil, and slaughtered us 6-3. They simply played in a different and much more effective way ( I won't go into details). So we had to learn (about how to play OUR game). I think UK-EU relations are directly analogous.

The EU issues directives which piss us off, in England and in France (and maybe many other countries). So what happens? In the UK we implement the directives and get pissed off. In France, they ignore the directives. So what happens then? France gets fined multi-million euros, which France is never going to pay. So what happens then? Nothing. Is the EU going to expel France for not paying the fine? Dream on; the fine is a fantasy. France does what it wants. So why doesn't the UK do the same? Because it doesn't understand the game that it is being played. The UK thinks the game is being played the UK way; and it is not. Most of the the reasons the UK is pissed off with Europe simply don't apply in other EU countries because they are playing a game that has different rules. Why shouldn't the UK understand the rules; they are not that difficult to understand? Because, presumably, someone gains by not doing so. Newspaper headlines (and sales), political power/axes to grind, personal gain; who knows?

Take Schengen (open borders) for example. The EU decrees that borders within the EU should be open. So, in the face of the current influx of large numbers of refugees, Hungary, Austria et al create long fences and implement border controls, all against EU rules. Buggar the EU rules. What will be the reprisals for them? Nothing. What does the UK do? It whinges and makes this a reason why the UK should leave the EU. It's no such thing; the UK can simply implement whatever controls it wants, if it wants. On the other hand it can complain that this is a reason for leaving the EU, if it wants.

So what is really going on here, what is the game and what are its rules? I think the real game in the UK is the contest for the leadership of the Conservative party; for the contestants, the future of the UK is a side issue. I don't think, for the Conservative party contestants, there are any rules; it's gloves off. Cameron versus Boris or who you will. That is why there is so little good information on the alternatives; the major contestants don't care about trustworthy information, they simply want personal power. What I find abhorrent, even obscene, is that anyone can trumpet future UK glory for reasons of purely personal power gain, knowing full well that in doing so they play dice with Britain's future and the future of all future British people. Playing the game, in my view, should mean so much more.

As very much a footnote, if you want to see what the economic powers think of the economic impact of the EU referendum result, look at what has happened to the value of the pound against other currencies as the Brexit vote has increased in polls over the last few weeks. It has sunk to multi-year lows. A new economically powerful Britain? Dream on.

Muhammad Ali Et Al

Muhammad Ali

Everybody now is paying tribute to Muhammad Ali and I would like to add my own. Boxing is not a sport I particularly like but Ali seemed somehow to take the brutality out of it. At a time when heavyweight boxers were generally stationary behemoths, slugging it out in more or less the same place until one fell over, he really did “flit like a butterfly”. It seemed at the time a totally new approach to heavywieght boxing,

Ali also endowed all of us with a battery of brilliant quotes. My all-time favourite is when he entered a restaurant in the Amercian south, Alabama I believe, and was told “we don't serve niggers here”. To which he apparently replied: “That's OK, I don't eat them”. I also love his quote: “Live every day as though you think it is going to be your last because one day you will be right”.

Apart from being supreme in his sport he was a great showman but one who never sold out. Changing his name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali, whatever you think of that, was never going to win him more friends or sponsorship in the USA. He did it because he believed in doing it, whatever the consequences for him personally.

Alice In Wonderland

I've decided that the UK EU referendum has to be classified as an Alice in Wonderland happening, or maybe a part of cloud cuckoo land, but it is not alone. Donald Trump's election campaign in the USA strikes me as another. The thought of the most powerful nation on Earth being run by Trump appals me. They couldn't, could they? Above all not at a time when Russia's Putin is wandering the globe like a malevolent delinquent, spoiling for a fight. I can find solace only in the fact that the same thought also appals all my Amercian friends; I just hope that there are enough of their ilk to stop that happening. Not that the UK is short of its own clowns seeking power rather than a circus ring in which to perform, Farage and Johnson being names that come immediately to mind. Where now are the statesmen of stature that we once used to have, the Bevans, the Churchills, even the Macmillans and the Wilsons? It is definitely becoming an Alice in Wonderland world. “Chop off their heads!”; they were never connected to any brains anyway.

Life After Death

A stray thought that cropped up out of conversation with Daniel over dinner this evening (and something of an Alice in Wonderland one): if anyone could definitively prove that there was no life after death they might just be doing the greatest service to man. Think about it. No more martyrs; what would be the point? No more twenty virgins; even then, it can't take that long to devirginise 20 of them and then what are you going to do for the rest of eternity? No more accepting suffering in this world with the prospect of being rewarded in the next; alleviate it. Religions could still have their gods to worship, just no eternal life; sorry about that.  What would you do differently?

Well you might, just might, get on with making life in this world more pleasant, not for future reward, but simply because life more pleasant is better than life less pleasant, collectively. That's not hard to agree with. And as for reasons for helping others, that already gives a lot of satisfaction to many people, so why not? And as for the real bastards of this world, well we've got them anyway so that wouldn't change but they could be seen simply not as sinners (who will pay for it hereafter) but as making life less pleasant for the rest of us; so maybe we'd do something more about them. Just a thought, an Alice in Wonderland thought.

(Can't think of a theorem at the moment but I'm working on it.)

The EU Referendum Again

The EU Referendum Again

“Curioser and curioser, said Alice”. So is the EU referendum just part of an Alice in Wonderland scenario? Two points have been brought to my attention since my last posting, the first in an article in The Economist and the second in an interview with Lord Astor.

The Economist article points out some details in the trading agreement made between Norway and the EU. Many in the Leave campaign are pointing to Norway as an example of a sound economy in Europe outside the EU and can correctly do so if one ignores huge differences between the economies of Norway and the UK. It turns out that Norway was offered the trade agreement it has only on the condition that it adopted the rules on free movement of labour enshrined in the EU. There can be little doubt that any trade agreement between the EU and the UK, which both sides agree the UK would have to have, would be offered on anything but at least the same terms. So all the trumpeting by the Leave campaign on securing our borders and stopping immigrants from the EU would come to nothing. The immigration situation would remain as it is now; even if we vote to leave we'd have no greater control of our borders than we do now.

Lord Astor has pointed out that under UK law the result of a referendum can only be advisory; it doesn't automatcially become law even if the Prime Minister accepts the result as binding. The UK legislation that binds us to the EU would first have to be repealed through Parliament and there seems to be little prospect that a majority of MPs of all parties would vote to repeal it. So we could have the situation that the referendum results in a vote for Brexit but a majority of MPs refuse to endorse it. Which would leave us in exactly the same situation as we were before the referendum.

Of course Cameron could put a three-line whip on votes for repeal of the legislation, though even that might not be enough. On the other hand, a Brexit result has been widely assumed as the end for Cameron as Prime Minister. He has allowed MPs a free hand on the referendum so he could quite reasonably allow them a free hand on the legislation that has to be repealed, thus possibly saving his job. Any bets on that?

I think I'll go back to reading Alice in Wonderland.

The EU Referendum

The EU Referendum

I've now registered to vote in the EU referendum and, as I have intimated before, will vote (by proxy) to remain. Apart from my obvious self-interest I think there are compelling reasons to do so, in spite of the poor current state of the EU. And self-interest is the least of the reasons; the issue is too important for that.

The Prime Minister has said that he will regard the result of the referendum as binding. It will also be irreversible in the forseeable future and so, whichever way we vote, we will be voting not just for ourselves but for our children and our children's children.

This is my nightmare scenario. The UK opts out. Very few Europeans are happy with the EU at the moment, particularly with the Commission, and so the inhabitants of several other countries, Denmark and Sweden certainly, Germany possibly, Austria and many other probably will then demand their own referendum. To prevent this happening, and the looming break-up of the EU, the EU will then undertake the much needed major reforms that so many want. There will be panic, no treaties will any longer be sacred and no reforms, however radical, ruled out. The budget will certainly be cut and, quite probably, power will be removed from the Commission and given to the European Parliament. The EU will then become more democratic, much more realistic in its legislature and be the large trading block that the UK has always wanted to be part of. Except that the UK will be on the outside and unable to get in again.

This would exacerbate and compound the disadvantages I see in leaving. Our heirs would thus find themselves not only economically isolated but part of a lone voice in the wilderness more generally, with no “muscle” to back any of the initiatives it would like to take. The UK might well say “we told you so and you wouldn't listen” but nobody then will be listening to the UK either. I believe that, however the UK votes, the reforms will be coming, and soon; I can't see any other future for the EU and don't believe the political powers in Europe will let it die. And I would much rather the UK could have a strong hand in directing them than simply be an outside observer.

What appals me when my country, for the UK is still my country, faces such a momentous decision is the quality of the debate and the information made available. I find Cameron no more than a blundering and blustering idiot. Farage has never been anything else, in my view. And I regard Boris Johnson's campaign as a supreme exercise in cynicism. As a former Editor of The Economist he must well understand the disadvantageous economic consequences of a Brexit. All the major financial bodies have told him what he must already know, what most of the major employers in the UK, who are not British and want above all to to be part of a large trading block, have said. He must know that trumpeting the cost of EU membership and the supposed savings to spend on other things is all smoke and mirrors. So I can only conclude that his evident desire to supplant Cameron, which he sees as his next job, is his only motive; pure cynicism. Corbyn has been an irrelevance. And the debate itself seems to be being conducted on a platform of xenophobia, thinly disguised racism and personal insults, belying its extreme importance.

Cameron hasn't helped with his aimless and confused campaign and neither has the EU itself, its arrogant Commission seemingly above PR or even the dissemination of positive facts. And, crucially, the EU was found wanting over the immigration crisis, always a thorny, misunderstood and complex issue, ideal for tabloid sensationalism. The UK already potentially has a large measure of control of its borders and its failure to exercise it is mostly due to an understaffed, underfunded and disillusioned Border Agency; Brexit won't change that, merely exacerbate the problem. Immigration as a political football, subject of local concern and generator of tabloid headlines is here to stay.  The same goes for benefits.  It has needed the Lib Dems to point out that the UK is in a strong positon within the EU and, indeed, owes much of its position slightly above the current global economic turmoil precisely to its membership of the EU. Appeals to patriotism, to make Britain great again, master of its destiny, etc, always strike me as “the last refuge of a scoundrel”. Britain is great, as great as it will ever be since Empire days, very largely a humane, tolerant, hard-working and beautiful country that has very many reasons to be proud of itself and its position in the world (it's just a pity about the weather.) But it will never again be a global economic powerhouse or major global influence outside of a power bloc. It will be even greater in the EU and we should stay there.

Translation, Perfume And Fruit

Translating Time

I've been amused for years by foreign football players and managers struggling with English words that express time: time itself, moment, period and (by implication) patch, spell, run, sequence, stage, etc. And now I've seen that Gareth Southgate, manager of England' Under-21 team, has caught the disease. I've seen him quoted as saying that “we are in a good moment”. Who on earth who is English and not exposed to foreigners struggling with our language would express the thought that their team was having a good patch or a good run of results by saying “we are in a good moment”?

Bizarre changes do occur in language evolution. We have the verb to sidle (up to someone) only because someone centuries ago thought that the ancient noun a sideling (assistant) must be the present participle of a verb, as in singing, talking, etc, and so invented the verb to sidle. It hadn't existed beforehand and has no other origin. The word time in English doesn't translate easily into most romance languages; their general equivalent, be it temps, tiempo, or whatever, applies to the concept of time but not always to a period of it; it depends on context. Saying that a football team was having a good temps, tiempo or whatever would mean that they were living it up, so foreign football staff use what they assume to be the English equivalent of their word in that context, which would be moment, momento or whatever. But a moment in English is very much shorter than the period of time they are talking about. If the prevalence of foreign football players and coaches in England persists, however, they may succeed not only in changing our football style but also our language.

Yellow Hillsides

The hillsides around here are probably best known popularly for groves of olive trees or rows of vines and those are certainly abundant. But between the months of March and June the hillsides are a blaze of yellow, as in the photo. Towards the middle of March coronilla starts bloomimg, not only colouring the hillsides but also perfuming the landscape. Coronilla has special connotations for me as it was one of my mother's favourite flowers, although it wasn't easy to find plants in UK garden centres. Here it grows wild, everywhere. Then, as the coronilla fades, broom starts to bloom and the photo here shows just one hillside between Mollans and Buis covered in its flowers. Later on, higher up, there will be fields of lavendar and, lower down, fields of sunflowers, but for the moment this area can claim the prize for the most attractive landscape.

Fruit

It's been asparagus and strawberry season for the past six weeks and I've been indulging heavily in both. About a week ago I decided I didn't want to eat any more asparagus for a while. This evening friends Hallie and Mary came to drink wine on my balcony and stick their noses in all the honeysuckle growing over the front of the house. The honeysuckle has been there for some years now and always flowers but for some reason this an exceptional year; honeysuckles front and back are covered in bloom and, in the evening, perfume the whole house. I offered Hallie and Mary some strawberries with their wine and both said, reluctantly, that they really couldn't eat another strawberry. I know how they feel but, for the moment, strawberries are still me. The first apricots are now appearing in the markets though and the first melons and peaches won't be far behind. It's all looking good for a fruitaholic like me.

Mostly About Photos

The Bench

A couple of years ago I moved a bench from further down the road into the space between two trees on the opposite side of the road opposite my kitchen window. This year I posted two notices on the trees. One quoted Georges Brassens “Les amoureux qui se bécottent sur les bancs publiques …..ont de petites gueules bien sympathiques” and the other quoted John Donne “No man is an island...donc ne cherchez pas à savoir pour qui sonne le glas, le glas sonne pour vous”. I felt that they would give people sitting on the bench something to think about while viewing the scenery. However, I also went to the Mairie to say that the wood on the bench was rotten and needed replacing. So, two months ago, the village council had the bench removed and they have taken two months to replace it. In the meantime I and others went to the Mairie and pointed out that cars were being parked in the space and spoiling the flowers I had planted and that some elderly people who could not walk far came to sit on the bench and could no longer do so. This week, while I was away in the regional boules tournament in Chorges, the bench was replaced. So all is now well again.

Flowers

I'm of a generation that deals in text rather than graphics, which dates me. Everybody now posts photos, and has the means to do so, Thus my blog has been noticeably lacking in graphic content, a point which I'm determined to correct at least to some extent. So here are some photos of flowers in the front of my house and at the back. My house has become known in the village for its floral display and the best way to convey that is to show some photos; no amount of description can do the same in any useful way. Tourists takiing turns to take photos of themselves in front of the house are such a commonplace that my neighbours Florence and Jean-Marc say it is the most photographed house in the village. So photos there shall be.

Chorges

This week the village boules players and I went to Chorges, in the mountains near the Itlaian border, to play in the regional boules tournament. None of us did particularly well (no surprises there) but we all enjoyed ourselves, which was the main objective of the exercise. But, again, a photo is called for and in this posting or the next another will be forthcoming. I'm doing my best to get more graphically and less textually oriented.

Photos

There is a saying is that a picture is worth a thousand words and that can be the case. After all, what greater testament can there be to an event than that you have actually seen it with your own eyes? However…….I recall a class in my sixth form at school in which a teacher was trying to teach us to question everything and think for ourselves. In one lesson he showed a large photograph which could be cropped in different ways to suggest different interpretations of what was happening. In particular I remember a photo of a scene of devastation in a newspaper in which a policeman could be seen grasping a plank of wood which was on top of the head of a man on his knees. So was the policeman brutally beating the man over the head with the plank of wood or taking the plank of wood off the man's head to allow him to stand up? There was no way to know and the newspaper could equally have captioned the photo “police brutality” or “police help”, according to what it wished to convey. So a picture may well convey a thousand words but not necessarily the words you read in its caption.

That should be a caution for the graphically oriented generation, although text also should carry similar cautionary notes. As ever, the distinction will probably be between those who want to jump to conclusions and those who are prepared to say that they are not sure, that they don't really know. And those can be the most difficult words to utter.

Shakespeare Event

Shakespeare Event

As befits English ex-pats, the 400^th anniversary of Shakespeare's death had to be celebrated locally in some way and the Beaumont English library duly took note and staged its event on the 8^th of May. Fifty one people attended, both French and English, so those responsible for the publicity certainly did their work. Various library members recited sonnets or excerpts from plays and there were Shakespearean songs and even some nibbles exemplary of the period; and muscat from Beaume de Venise substituted well for mead. The whole proceedings, masterminded by friend Jo, went off extremely well and seemed to be greatly appreciated by the audience. A good time was had by all.

I read Mark Anthoy's forum speech from Julius Ceaser. However, there was something else that I really wanted to do for which there was no time in the programme. Jo would have killed me if I'd done it unannounced. (Being a kind person she would have killed me humanely but I decided not to risk it.) I wanted to recount my personal experience of acting in a Shakespeare play, a most noteworthy event since it was the evening the MacBeth tragedy was turned into a comedy. That is quite a feat, as I am sure you will admit.

I went to a boys' grammar school, a rather traditional one. Every year there was a school play and every second year it had to be a Shakespeare play. One year that I took part the play was MacBeth. The school had three or four boys with genuine claims to be able to act and four or five others who would have a reasonable go at it. Now, if you've ever had a look at casts for Shakespeare's plays you may notice that they all have one thing in common: they are long. Adding up our actual and potential actors we found that we were around 30 short for MacBeth. Where to find the extra bodies?

Amateur sportsmen are generally loyal to their team and loyalty, like patriotism, is an attribute that can be usefully abused. So the rugby team was approached. “The school needs you; do it for the school; you owe it to the school”. So we had another fifteen on the cast list but still needed the same again. A sometimes useful attribute of first year boys is that they are generally small and can be bullied. “I saw you talking in Assembly; do you want a detention or do you want to volunteer for the school play?” Wise choice. That gave us the full cast that we needed.

It should be pointed out that many of the characters in Shakespeare's casts are essentially “extras” and have little or nothing to say, except perhaps something like “yes my lord”. Even rugby players can be trained to say that in a couple of weeks. This is where we cast our “volunteers”.

Those familiar with MacBeth will remember that towards the end of the play the rival armies (actually about 8-10 soldiers of each) troop onto and off the stage in successive scenes, hearing what a messenger has to say, being exhorted, or whatever. We hadn't made one army out of rugby players and one out of first year boys as that would be giving the game away; it would have been obvious who would win. So we mixed them up. The result was a succession of scenes in which two motley crews consisting of some hefty 6ft rugby players, looking rather formidable in their military gear, and some diminutive first year boys, lagging behind and dragging their swords behind them because they were too heavy to carry, trooped on and off the stage. The audience loved it. They howled with laughter and brought the house down. And so we turned MacBeth into a comedy.

There was one piece of isnpired casting in all this, and that was me. I was cast as a witch; in fact the first (lead) witch. I was going through puberty at the time and never knew whether the voice that came out of me was going to be a growl or a squeak. Ideal for a witch. I am still immensely proud of having been the lead witch in the first performance of MacBeth as a comedy. We never got to do Hamlet when I was at school but you can be sure that, if we had, it would have been exceptional.