Cross-Culture

“The Islamic Republic won’t last forever. The Iranian Phoenix will be reborn”

No country, except perhaps North Korea in recent years has attracted so much adverse attention as the Islamic Republic of Iran. Its theocratic regime is rightly charged with persecuting dissenters, forcing women to wear the veil and chawdor, bloodily suppressing the protests of hundreds of thousands of Teheranis who believed that its 2009 election was rigged in favour of President Ahmadinejad. Worse, in the eyes of the US and most (though not all) EU Governments, Iran is seen to be using its nuclear power programme covertly to develop atomic warheads for its missiles that could be used to carry out Ahmadinejad’s threat to “wipe Israel off the map”.

The trouble with this analysis is that like the curate’s egg, it is bad in parts. Born of fear and the same kind of flawed intelligence that plunged the US and Britain into Iraq and an unwinnable war in Afghanistan, it fails to take account of the ‘other Iran’ that I have come to know over a lifetime of interaction with the largest, most populous and in the long run, most potentially pro-Western nation in the Middle East.

We need to get back to basics if the Obama Administration in Washington and the new Con-Lib coalition in London are to pursue with any hope of success the “dialogue with Iran” that is the only sane alternative to a slide into bombing and war. So let’s start again – with the history, geography and culture that mean far more than the dithyrambics of the transitory regime of the Mullahs. Iran is big. Put one end on the Bristol Channel and the other would stretch eastwards from Istanbul. Iran is also rich, a reservoir of more oil and gas than anywhere except Saudi Arabia. Climatically it is hot and arid, yet in the turrets of the Zagros Mountains and in the snows of the 11,000 ft tall peaks where Iranians ski and from which streams gush down to the forested shores of the Caspian, it is not hard for the visitor to fall in love (as I did in my youth) with what one of my more distinguished Parliamentary colleagues described as “those plains of amber, those peaks of amethyst, the dignity of that silence of two thousand years”.

Lord Curzon, who was the British Viceroy of India when he said that, grasped the significance of the continuity over the millennia of Iranian culture. Most classical civilizations have seen their ancient history fade into the mists of time. Today’s Egypt, Greece and Italy cherish the memories but bear little contemporary resemblance to the glories of the Pharaohs, of Athens in the 5th Century BC or the Empire of Rome at its peak.

Not so Iran (and China). Visit Esfahan, Shiraz or Yazd and Iranians in three piece suits as well as gowns and turbans, will regale you with tales of Cyrus and Darius, their great emperors who carried the power and culture of Persia to Sudan in the south and Pakistan to the east.

Therein lies one of the keys to dealing with Iran. Far more important, because it is more deeply rooted than the Koran-thumping of the Ayatollahs  - or the consumerism of the Americans – is the self-image of the Persians. Above all, they are proud. They too believe that – like the Brits – they are unique.

Personifying this critical quality of the Persian character is a wise old man living in Le Chateau des Roses, overlooking Lake Geneva in the Swiss city of Montreux. Meet Ardeshir Zahedi, son of the Persian general who restored the late Shah to the Peacock Throne in the long-ago 1950s. Foreign Minister of Iran, Ambassador to Britain and (twice) to America in the ‘80s, Zahedi has even more reason to be hostile to the current regime than other members of the Iranian diaspora. Its agents targeted him for assassination in the 90s. Nor has this muted his calls for an end to the Ayatollahs’ persecution of dissent, their mis-management and corruption of the Iranian economy, their support for terrorist causes among extremist elements of Hamas in Palestine and Hezbollah in Lebanon.  Zahedi is broadly, though not uncritically, pro-British and pro-American. Above all else he incarnates the cultural characteristics of the Persian. In his youth he was passionate and playful. As an Ambassador he was generous to the point of extravagance in the parties he gave for Presidents and Prime Ministers. As Foreign Minister he could be prickly and sometimes profane in his pursuit of Iranian interests, for instance in his insistence that the Gulf must never be referred to as anything other than Persian, and that its islands must be Iranian.

Zahedi today is a pragmatist to whom increasing numbers of thoughtful Iranian exiles look for advice and guidance on how to interpret the cross currents of Iranian politics. Iran watchers at the UN Security Council and the EU Commission in Brussels – though not, alas, the know-it-alls of the State Department and Pentagon – study his occasional speeches and excerpts from his memoirs that appear in the Swiss-Iranian and Persian language journals of west coast America. But Zahedi’s advice is very different from that which might be expected from the ‘Bourbons’, the term traditionally used to describe exiles who ache to destroy the regimes that dispossessed them.

Consider just two examples:

“Bomb Iran to stop it making atomic bombs?”

“Madness,” says Zahedi. In addition to murdering the innocent, this would be more likely to consolidate support behind the regime that he, no less than the hawks in Washington and Tel Aviv, wants to displace.

“Tighten up sanctions to squeeze the Iranian economy and bring the regime to its knees.”

“It won’t work,” says Zahedi. Iran is self sufficient in food, energy and minerals. Unemployment is a major problem for the rapidly increasing numbers of school leavers in a country of 74 million, more than half of whom are under 20 – but as in Cuba and Myanmar, it is not hard for a regime that controls the press and TV to put the blame for the lack of jobs and declining living standards on “outside enemies” seeking to punish the Iranians for failing to bow to the “Great Satan” (as the Mullahs describe America).

Ardeshir Zahedi’s anaylsis, like mine, is that the dialogue with Iran that the Obama Administration in Washington now says it wants, will get nowhere if it is confined to the nuclear question. Between the US and Iran, there are other festering issues that cry out to be tackled.

For instance, compensation – to the Americans, for the 1979 seizure of their Embassy and incarceration of their diplomats; to the Iranians for the families of the 248 pilgrims killed in 1988 when the US cruiser Vincennes shot down an Iranian airliner en route to Mecca. Both sides also accuse the other of aiding and abetting terrorism. Iran helps fund and arm extremist elements of Hamas in Palestine and Hezbollah in Lebanon. The CIA makes use of money appropriated by Congress to assist anti-Iranian forces not only among Kurds on the borders of Iraq and Turkey but inside Iran itself.

There are nevertheless broad interests that Iran and the West have in common. Trade is one example. As Britain and Europe strive to pull out of the global recession, Iran is too large a market to be left to the Russians and Chinese. And Iran could pay for its imports if only its oil and gas were allowed back onto world markets. Politically too, an Iran at peace with the West could help stabilize the Persian Gulf by removing the Arab fears of Iranian over-lordship after the Americans leave. It could also assist in resolving the Middle East’s most dangerous confrontation, between Israel and Palestine.

There are, as yet, few signs that the Mullahs will put aside their proclaimed intention to export the Islamic Revolution. But that is not the aim nor the wish of the “Other Iran” that constitutes the overwhelming majority of the Iranian people. For them the best way forward is to restore the links with the West that in Ardeshir Zahedi’s day (and mine) made Iran our closest friend and stoutest ally on the crucial land bridge that links greater Europe (including Turkey) with the tomorrow-lands of Central Asia, India and China.

A pipedream? I do not think so. For the Mullahs are not forever. One way or another, they too will pass or be absorbed into the cultural fabric of historic Iran. With Ardeshir Zahedi, I cling to the belief expressed by a mutual friend, Houshang Navahandi, when he served as Rector of Shiraz University:

“Four thousand years of history with so many ups and downs have taught this to the Iranians: Iran has always survived, overcome its invaders… absorbed its occupiers. The Phoenix is always re-born from the Ashes.”

by Sir Eldon Griffiths

Jordan: a unique brand of hospitality

Among the world’s many tourism destinations, not more than a handful may be said to live up to the hospitality industry’s old dictum of “treat visitors as you would treat guests in your own home”. And it tells us a lot about the human condition that Jordan, a young and in many ways improbable country saddled with more than its fair share of economic and political problems, is one of them.

Sitting on the periphery of Europe, a stone’s throw from the Mediterranean Sea, and graced with a striking variety of attractions, Jordan is the perfect getaway. For a small and easily navigable place, the array of its historical sites alone is mind-boggling – pristine Roman and Biblical monuments; stunning Ottoman and WWI artefacts; locations captured in Indiana Jones movies. The many layers of the country’s history are matched by the diversity of its minorities: Christian, Bedouine (bedu), Armenian, Assyrian, Druze, Circassian, Chechen and others.

Yet many first-time visitors from the West are cautious, arriving on half-hearted, two-day stopovers, clutching detailed itineraries and confining themselves to the bland security of international hotel chains, package tours and professional guides. Their behaviour is easy to understand: This is, after all, a place sandwiched between the West Bank and Iraq, and therefore forever caught in a metaphorical crossfire. It is also ‘a country in search of a nation’, with a majority-Palestinian population that has been displaced twice over, and may well harbour resentment of Western interference. Not to mention the local people’s hardship that comes with living in a desert that yields neither water nor oil.

But after a day in the capital Amman, the harsh reality you found in history books and news headlines couldn’t be further from your mind. Relaxing at coffee shops and observing the locals in different settings – from the crowded old town in the vicinity of the ancient Roman amphitheatre to the upscale, leafy lanes of the gentrified Shmeisani district – whatever concerns you may have had earlier suddenly feel preposterous.

Granted, low-income countries are often tempted to treat affluent foreign visitors as cash cows. In other markets overrun by mass tourism – Egypt, Thailand – many a kind gesture is followed by “My cousin has a shop; you must come have a look.” Not in Jordan. Show any sign of confusion over directions, and someone will approach you with a sincere “Do you need help?”, and leave you with their phone number should you get lost or encounter any sort of trouble.

The kindness is not random, or limited to well-meaning individuals. Across the Middle East, Jordanian retail assistants are easy to spot: possessed of limitless patience, they will keep up their good humour as you try on the fiftieth pair of jeans or sunglasses. Once a transaction has been made, it is not unusual for them to sit you down on a plush sofa, make you a cappuccino and chat for a few minutes about life, work, family and such. It is the human touch at its very best – an asset that money can’t buy and international shopping festivals modelled on the Great Singapore Sale can hardly compete with.

The first impressions become even more impressive once you learn that the 1967 Arab-Israeli conflict left Jordan with minimal agricultural land and virtually no sources of drinking water. Where hotels in other countries present guests with laminated leaflets on environmental protection as a noble manifestation of corporate social responsibility, Jordan gets away with a less abstract yet honest “Save Our Water”. But perhaps the country is blessed in ways that don’t meet the Western eye – for if you walk into any restaurant, within minutes your table will disappear under a deluge of salads, vegetables, herbs, and exotic pastries.

Some of the warmth and generosity one experiences in Jordan comes from age-old Arabian and especially Bedouine traditions of sharing food, drink and company with visitors. In fact, across the Arab world, even when food is sold and money changes hands, often the real significance is one of “people being fed [through God’s bounty]”. As an Arab colleague of mine pointed out: “If you want to sell food, you must provide good food – and serve it with a smile.”

On my next trip, I may give the Marriotts and Intercontinentals a miss. Instead, I will plant myself next to a desert track and wait – no watch, no schedule, no timetable. I know by now that sooner or later, a battle-scarred, bread-shaped bus will show up. Before I can see it, I will hear the harmonica chords of bedu songs blasting through its sound system, stirring and wailing from miles away. Then the bus arrives – grinning villagers, cigarette smoke billowing through the windows, piles of fried chicken on everyone’s lap. My halting Arabic won’t be a problem – against all odds, a bespectacled, somewhat studious yet unfailingly polite young passenger will materialize and come to my rescue with fluent English. I will find out where the driver is heading, pay the fare in a few tiny coins, and hop on. The destination is unimportant: like no other country, the land immortalized in the tales of Lawrence of Arabia still offers – nay, demands of – its visitors spontaneity and a sense of adventure, all the while providing the luxury of a remarkably safe and pleasant environment.

by Martin Králik

Martin Králik (martin.intercultural@gmail.com) is a cultural consultant, Asia scholar and freelance writer based in Kuala Lumpur.

Unhappy valley: Kenya in 2010

The old colonials associated with the “happy valley” also used to call Kenya “God’s own country”. It remains an attractive, even spectacular country, with a metropolitan lifestyle and tourism industry which is the envy of most African countries. Its capital Nairobi has on its fringes Africa’s largest slum – three-quarters of a million people on 550 acres, not adopted by the city council, dependent on NGOs for such services as exist, living in shanties owned by landlords with strong links to the ruling elite.

It has by African standards a relatively large and diverse economy with a modest manufacturing base, and a sturdy private sector. Associated with that is a thriving middle class, diverse and free media, and a strong civil society. Its 38 and a half million people – growing at an annual rate of 2.6% - enjoy a GNI per capita of $770. Annual economic growth (in 2008) of 3.6%, though less than before the 2007 election, maintains the healthy improvement in economic activity under President Kibaki, who replaced in 2002 President Moi’s 24-year ascendancy. 

Kenya has few natural resources of the kind that have made Nigeria, are making Ghana and will make Uganda rich (and perhaps cursed). Its most notorious scam – the Goldenberg affair – was based upon fraudulent subsidies for gold exports – a resource whose incidence in Kenya is negligible.

What it has is a well-educated people, with a developed entrepreneurial spirit and sense of purpose and common interest (tested to the point of destruction  in 2008). They are relatively progressive and dynamic: mobile cell phone subscribers in 2007 were 42 and internet users 8.7 per hundred: both figures are nearly twice the sub-Saharan African average, and the proportion of the population using the internet is ahead of India’s  – not bad, against the social and economic background. Although value added in the agricultural and manufacturing sectors have declined in recent years, the informal economy is large (no-one knows how large) and keeps people going even in hard times. In 2007, FDI was over seven times larger than in 2000, and official aid two and a half times. Time required to start a business is reckoned by the World Bank at 30 days in 2008 – 24 days quicker than in 2005.

This dynamism masks one of the world’s most unequal societies. The World Bank (source of most statistics in this piece) cannot quote 2008 figures for important indicators like income share of the poorest 20%, life expectancy (probably over a decade shorter than in India in 2007), contraceptive prevalence, HIV prevalence, malnutrition or primary school completion rates. 

The country – about the size of France – contains almost every measure of diversity – measured by topography, aridity, ethnicity, religion – and unevenness in development reflects the evolution of the country’s politics since Independence 46 years ago. The first 15 years, the Kenyatta era, saw extensive land transfers to African owners, as all but a residual few settlers of European descent left. There is still large-scale commercial farming, but land pressures have led to the break-up of many large estates into smallholdings.

Increasing competition for resources and high population growth has sharpened the edge of ethnic politics, particularly in areas where traditional populations and incomers meet. The end of the Kenyatta era and the ascendancy of President Moi led to a deliberate effort to shift the balance of advantage towards his own Kalenjin peoples of the Rift Valley and to weaken the former Kikuyu dominance which Kenyatta had fostered. 

Poor governance resulted from the thoroughgoing subversion of most of the major institutions of the state through corruption, political interference and nepotism. Concerns about governance and Kenya’s reluctance to embark on economic reforms of privatisation and liberalisation led to recurrent crises in her relations with the international financial institutions and major development partners.

The 1990s, however, saw a loosening of the KANU single-party system and the development of opposition. The anti-KANU parties which, until 2002, seemed too fragmented to defeat President Moi’s ascendancy did combine in a Rainbow coalition whose flag-bearer, Mwai Kibaki, defeated Moi’s chosen successor – Kenyatta’s son – that year. 

The Rainbow Coalition campaigned on a programme of reform: of the Constitution, to relax the centralising tendencies of the presidency; of institutions, particularly the justice and law and order sectors; of the economy - to improve growth and introduce major poverty-reduction measures like universal primary education; and to tackle the defining characteristic of the country’s politics – corruption, both grand and petty.

Around the time of President Kibaki’s election in 2002, polls showed Kenyans to be among the most optimistic people, and the most proud of their country. The shine has gone, as disillusionment has dulled hope.  

After 2002, reform stalled, save for the introduction of universal primary education – with heavy donor backing. Constitutional reform was blocked by disagreements between the erstwhile reformers-in-opposition become government; the drive against corruption was obstructed by its own corruption at the heart of government, the enfeeblement of the institutions set up to tackle it, and the frustration and eventual flight into exile of the man (John Githongo) whom the President had appointed his top official and adviser on corruption. 

Meantime, the issues which had set up internal tensions within the victorious 2002 coalition broke it up and led to its principal leaders standing against each other in 2007, and then to bitter disagreement over the result.

Kenyans’ easy pride in their country’s  fabled stability took a huge knock when the post-election dispute in late 2007/early 2008 led to vicious inter-ethnic and political violence which left over 1,100 dead and 350,000 displaced. 

A successful fruit and vegetable-export sector sits alongside recurrent food shortages among Kenya’s own people. Having been the only third world member of the International Wheat Council back in the early 1970s, Kenya is now a wheat importer. Recurrent scandals involve profiteering from the sale of the country’s maize reserve against hungry times, followed – as happened in 2009 – by the discovery when famine strikes that the cupboard is bare and Kenya is forced to go cap in hand for international food relief.

One of the best known current sayings from Kenya is “it’s our turn to eat”. It also says the most important thing about the defining characteristic of the country’s politics – namely the quest of Kenya’s ruling elite for personal enrichment through politics. It is not the most corrupt country in Africa, but its grand and petty corruption are a daily preoccupation of beneficiaries, victims and reformers: it comes 146^th in Transparency International’s corruption perceptions index for 2009 – equal with such models of probity as Russia, Zimbabwe and Sierra Leone, for examples, but shamefully after much poorer countries like Ethiopia, Uganda and Tanzania, and even after notorious Nigeria. 

The way corruption has worked in Kenya in the multi-party era is that competing leaders have sought through political power to lay hands on the state’s revenues and the other levers of self-enrichment, in order to pay the personal debts incurred in fighting elections, to build up a fighting fund for the next election (the key to maintaining their hold on power), and to benefit their own people and districts to the extent necessary to persuade voters that the politicians’ interests are theirs. Hence, each election produces people who regard their entitlement to eat as the natural fruit of victory; and, because all aspire to a place at the trough, all have an interest in a culture of impunity.

Along the way, nepotism and favouritism, and the thoroughgoing distortion of the administration of what was until the 1970s a well-run country has spawned imitators at lower levels, so that most ordinary transactions cost the citizens a premium beyond the face-cost of the service; and deny them services of the standard and extent which Kenya’s revenues could afford if they were not mismanaged. 

As things stand, Kenya is becalmed between severe weather systems. Her power-sharing government is in internal conflict: it was the basis of a truce between the former presidential rivals and their supporters, but not a peace agreement. The major issues predating 2007 and those which have arisen since remain largely unresolved. The next election is due in 2012. Many fear that, if there is no explosion before then, there will be a repetition of the disorder and violence unleashed after the 2007 election, aggravated by the organisation and arming of ethnic militias by the political elite.

And yet. Life goes on. The non-indigenous communities of long standing survive and prosper, keeping a low profile and cultivating their gardens and businesses. Tourists still flock to the delights of bush, mountains and coast. 

Kenyans, despite the fragility of their present political modus vivendi, still retain a sense of common interest, and work hard for personal targets which are common to most of them. If confidence in their leaders is at a low ebb, still the country seems resilient. Growth – 3% perhaps this year – helps. 

In the region, Kenya remains the key to access to the ocean, and peace in Sudan emphasises the importance of that. The UN has in Nairobi the only two of its organisations based outside the northern hemisphere. Nairobi’s diplomatic corps is larger than anywhere else around. 

Somalia’s disorder is the most sinister external contagion, bringing into focus again the country’s vulnerability to Al Qaeda attacks first demonstrated in the blowing up of the US embassy in 1998. These worries, and the piracy off the Horn, are engaging Kenya’s old western allies in propping up the country’s own defences – but wondering how sound is the basis structure to which they pin their battle-colours.

And yet. Kenya has been drawing down on its resilience for many years. Without fundamental reform, it risks sliding into the basket category, which would be disastrous for Kenya and for its region.

by Sir Edward Clay

The Cultural Commandments: Germany

Germany is a relatively new country, not being unified until 1871, after the Franco-Prussian war. It is still characterized by decentralisation and compartmentalisation. The 16 states (Länder) have considerable autonomy and different lifestyles. München (Bavaria), Stuttgart, Köln, Hamburg and Frankfurt stand out as powerful regional centres. The capital was moved from Bonn to Berlin after re-unification in 1990.

The basic characteristics of traditional German business culture are a monochronic attitude toward the use of time; a strong belief that Germans are honest, straightforward negotiators and a tendency to be blunt and disagree openly rather than going for diplomacy.

1. Be thorough…then check everything again

Grϋndlichkeit (thoroughness) is a core German virtue. You should show a mastery of facts, figures, and every last detail. Fill out the background and context at great length. Repeat. Check understanding. Go through all potential problems and eventualities openly, and demonstrate how you will solve them. Then ensure that everyone has clear instructions what to do next. The same thoroughness applies to quality.

2. Be direct and honest

The old joke goes that a Frenchman and a German are about to be guillotined. The brave Frenchman elects to lie on his back. Miraculously the blade stops an inch from his neck. Under the rules, he is free. The German – not wishing to appear less brave – also lies on his back, staring skywards. Just as the signal is given he cries ‘Stop! Halt!...................There is something wrong with the mechanism…’

Germans tend to insist on the scientific truth, however painful, and trust each other to tell it with no taboos. 'Hmm….interesting idea', which Brits readily interpret as ‘Forget it!’ really does mean an interesting idea in Germany. Beware!

3. Don’t make it sound too simple

Life isn’t simple, is it?  So why pretend otherwise? To German ears, simple messages are not complete. After all, synthetic German grammar is complex and a weighty tool for (fair) negotiation. Don’t worry that they will nod off listening to you. They are used to waiting for the verb at the end of the sentence. 

4. Be sufficiently formal

In meetings with Americans and Brits, Germans may follow suit and use first name terms. But as soon as you leave the room they are likely to revert to ‘Herr Dr.’ and ‘Frau Professor.’ Earning titles and authority takes time, energy and application. Showing respect for social and professional hierarchies and communication paths will gain points. Don’t forget to shake hands a lot, and never shout across crowded rooms.

5. Be serious

The world is constructed more for suffering than pleasure, so why be light-hearted and flippant at work? Over a few beers afterwards you can share a few jokes. If you don’t understand theirs you could always contact the German Institute of Humour (no joke) for an explanation. They take their humour seriously.

6. Respect privacy

German managers tend to keep the doors of their large offices closed. Many German companies are still private. Locks are secure, and security systems second to none. Remember that working life and private life are strictly separate. Do not intrude on leisure time.

7. Be on time

Germans are the most punctual of all peoples. Lateness is seen as a sign of unreliability. ‘Arriving late’ may mean a delay of only two or three minutes. In professional life observe schedules, action plans and delivery dates.

8. Know your duty

Duty or Pflicht is a must. You should be a good, un-troublesome citizen. Unlike many British, French and American people, Germans have no desire to be eccentric. They try to conform and not make mistakes. For instance, it is your duty not to drop litter. If you do, you will be told about it.

9. Prepare for some soul-searching

The French Enlightenment gave the world rationalism, but Germany countered in the nineteenth century with a deep journey into the soul, which continues today. Germans long for deep friendships and heartfelt discussions about life’s problems and enigmas. Give them time – the investment is worthwhile.

10. Be organised

Two Englishmen, meeting on the street may say ‘Hello’ and exchange brief words on the weather. Two Germans are likely to ask ‘Alles in Ordnung?’ (Is everything in order?). They can then go their separate ways relieved that things are as they should be. Follow the rules, be organised, do the expected. Ordnung is not just a word, but a world view. It does not, however, apply to German queues, which appear to arrange themselves along more Darwinian principles.

by Richard D. Lewis

Note: this is an edited version of an article which originally appeared in The Diplomat.

France as a model?

It was not long ago that France was regularly criticised by the more liberal economies of the world and its leaders. The intervention of the State in many facets of the French Economy was often seen as being backward and a hindrance to the free market flow of goods and services.

Recently however, these criticisms have been more subdued and you can nowadays hear comments and read more and more articles explaining that the heavily regulated French economy together with its massive public and social spending have actually helped cushion the negative effect of the worldwide economic crisis. “L’Etat-providence” in this situation proved to be the right choice and have made some governments think that more regulations and state intervention may actually help to avoid the type of crisis we experienced caused by economic liberalism and lack of real control of financial institutions.

Indeed, the French Economy has been more resilient than many other developed countries and President Nicolas Sarkozy has been quick to state that France has been one of the countries that best resisted the crisis.

The situation is in fact not that rosy and 2010 and beyond will hold many challenges for the French Economy. The pick up from the crisis is actually quite slow and quarterly GDP growth projections for 2010 are between 0.3 and 0.4%.

The immediate problem will be a further deterioration of the unemployment figures now at almost 10% with this percentage much worse for the young. Consumer consumption is badly damaged and is not expected to recover easily. The business climate is not healthy and recent surveys show that activity will actually slow down rather than pick up in the coming months. Many of the economic measures that the Government implemented in 2008 and 2009 will not be extended and that won’t help.

Additionally, one should also not forget that public finances have been heavily used recently and will continue to be through, among others, its recently announced “Grand Emprunt” (grand loan). As a result, the public deficit is forecasted to soon represent an unprecedented 8.5% of GDP, far above the EU’s target of 3%.

President Nicolas Sarkozy promised back in 2008 to implement many necessary reforms to the way things were organised in France and the majority of the population supported him at the time of his election. While quite a number have been implemented in the last 30 months, many have been actually watered down and quite a few have been postponed partly due of course to the crisis, but also partly due to the steady unpopularity of the President whose rating is nowadays below 40%. 

His style is leaving many French people uncomfortable to say the least. Trying to do everything himself and taking all the decisions or at least giving that impression is actually putting him at the front line constantly. The recent debate regarding “L’Identité Nationale” (what it means to be French) is actually further polarising the electorate and is very much seen as an attack on the immigrant population and more of an extreme-right idea coming from someone like Le Pen.

But this is actually a sign of a much deeper problem. While the official country’s motto has been historically “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité”, a good part of its population, not only immigrant, is not seeing much of these words practiced in reality. The social fabric is breaking down and a growing percentage of French citizens are “falling by the roadside”. The immigrant population especially from the former colonies is struggling to integrate into French society and the number of “new poor” is growing regularly and dangerously. Paradoxically, the number of “privileged” civil servants in France has grown in the last 20 years much more quickly than the private sector to reach 5.4 million or 1 in 5 employed people, but this has not benefited much the above mentioned groups of people. France will need to tackle this problem seriously to avoid more unrest in its cities’ suburbs.

There is no doubt that France needs more essential reforms partly to cut down on huge public expenses even in time of “normal” economic condition. France is living beyond its means and President Sarkozy has again recently insisted on getting them through. One of these reforms will be the delicate one on retirement age and pension benefits, but at a time of slow economic growth, implementing all the planned reforms will not be easy. Of course, almost everyone still continues to believe that these reforms are needed, as long as one is not touched by them.

We can of course here easily recognise one of the key characteristics of the French character, but this is basically what the French government is up to. Contrary to the Swedish population which had to accept many painful reforms a few years ago for the common good, a good percentage of the French population does not see it that way and will resist any attempt to modify earned privileges or any set arrangements. With 2010 just starting and to duplicate last spring’s demonstrations by 3 million people all over the country, one can easily envisage more unhappy people ready to fill up again the streets of France and/or going on strike to stop reforms or to demand improvement in their conditions. It remains to be seen how well the French Model copes!

by Jacques Méon

Malaysia: An 'open house' tradition

Those who have visited this Southeast Asian destination in the past few weeks have been treated to the spectacle of the nationwide celebrations of the Eid al Fitr holiday. Although the religious significance of Eid, its rituals and its message of spiritual and moral renewal upon the conclusion of the fasting month are universal to all Muslims, the way it is observed in this part of the world takes on additional meanings. Some are related to traditional Malay culture and customs as well as local family structure; others stem from the contemporary realities and dynamics of Malaysia as a pluralistic, multiracial society. 

In the Malay language, the holiday is commonly named Hari Raya Aidilfitri (‘hari’ means ‘day’; ‘raya’ is ‘festive’; ‘festival’; ‘celebration’). Sometimes it is also referred to as Hari Raya Puasa (‘puasa’ meaning ‘fasting’). In the old days, Hari Raya was a festive but simple affair, marked by prayer, visits to the mosque, and small family gatherings. Thanks to the staggering growth in Malaysia’s prosperity over the past thirty years, however, the core festival alone has evolved into a lavish, week-long celebration. The follow-up social activities fill up everyone’s calendar for several weeks, throughout the Islamic month of Syawal.  

One of the main reasons behind this trend is the famed cohesiveness of the Malay-Muslim family. Even rapid urbanization and suburban sprawl haven’t stopped Malay people from driving en masse, practically every weekend, to the kampong (‘rural areas’; ‘hometown’) to visit their relatives. The Hari Raya festivities serve to punctuate further this long-established rhythm of things. Granted, the average family size may have shrunk over the years, as today’s married couples have two or three children rather than the previous generation’s five to ten. But that still leaves most people with dozens of relatives to catch up with. 

On the first day of the holidays, people dress up in traditional bright-coloured (purple, pink, yellow) Malay attire. Men put on baju Melayu (‘Malay clothes’) – an ensemble of loose silk pants and a matching, long-sleeve, V-neck top, with a golden, hand-embroidered (and sometimes very costly) songket sash tied around the waist. A black-velvet, fez-like songkok or, for the more adventurous type, a Malay warrior-style, somewhat complicated triangular headpiece completes the look. Women don an equally colourful baju kurung, a knee-length blouse worn over a long skirt.  

In the morning of the first day of Hari Raya, people ask forgiveness of their parents and siblings for any slights they may have committed or harsh words uttered in the past year. The Malay psyche is marked by humility and being closely in touch with one’s emotions: the sight of adults kneeling on the floor in front of a parent and weeping openly is not uncommon even among Westernized, UK- and Australia-educated professionals. 

Once the family bonds have been acknowledged, the majority of reunions shift their focus to “food, glorious food!” Fittingly, the Malay word for a party is ‘pesta’, similar to the Spanish ‘fiesta’, or feast. Many ladies of the house and their Indonesian maids will literally slave away overnight to prepare for their guests a smorgasbord that looks like a visual encyclopaedia of Malay cooking: the highlights include beef rendang, satay sticks served with peanut sauce, and a plethora of seasonal rice delicacies such as ketupat dumplings lovingly hand-wrapped in palm-leaf pouches, or lemang – glutinous rice cooked in a hollowed bamboo stick lined with banana leaf. Recently, some of these dishes have been listed among Malaysia’s national heritage. For example, rendang is mentioned in a Malay literature classic Hikayat Amir Hamzah (Amir Hamzah’s Chronicles), proving its existence as early as the 1550s, shortly after the demise, at the hands of Portuguese colonisers, of the Malacca sultanate. The origins of lemang date even further back, to the heyday of Malaysia’s aboriginal (orang asli) cultures. 

Just as the Malay language is a borrowing language, the Malay culture has always been open to external influences – from Arabic tradition and attire through ‘jolly’ English-style fun and games to the visual splendour of Bollywood. For its part, the Raya custom of giving children (or elderly parents; after all, any custom can be reinterpreted to suit the modern context) pocket money in small, red and green-coloured envelopes, has been adopted from Chinese New Year celebrations, along with the term ‘angpaw’ (a Hokkien-dialect equivalent of Mandarin hong bao / Cantonese lai see, meaning ‘red envelope’). 

The yearly indulgence is not without its critics: they point out that the higher material standard of living that is reflected in the holiday excess may have taken away from the original spirit of giving. Whereas Islam encourages its followers to reach out consistently to other people, the modern-day “open house” gatherings are held exclusively during the Eid season. Instead of giving food to the poor, the communal meal is often used as an occasion to network with business associates, important clients, government officers and other “special people”. Much too often, it is hard to resist the temptation to show off one’s status symbols such as the latest expansion to the family bungalow, a newly-renovated interior and, implicitly, one’s wherewithal to feed and entertain hundreds of friends and relatives for days on end. 

What is encouraging in the Malaysian context is the holiday’s openness and inclusiveness towards the country’s sizable and predominantly non-Muslim minorities – Chinese, Indian, Siamese, Eurasian, aboriginal and others. It is not an exaggeration to say this openness towards diversity has to be seen to be believed. This year, during my annual visit to a Malay friend’s house, I ran into a smartly-dressed Malaysian-Chinese family bearing a gift hamper. Are they neighbours, or perhaps a part of the family, I enquired of my friend. Oh no, not at all, he answered. Then the families must have known each other for a long time? Wrong again. In the end, I learned that the forty-something Chinese lady’s name was Karen, and she was Christian. A few years ago she shared a hospital room with my friend’s seventy-plus-year-old mother. Karen, a mother of one, communicates mostly in Cantonese and English; my friend's mother, who raised eight children, understands only Malay. Yet somehow they managed to come to know each other. Since then, not one big festival has gone by without the two families getting together.  

Similarly, the Malaysian Prime Minister’s open-house celebration, held in the futuristic new capital city of Putrajaya, drew a crowd of 50,000, coming from all racial, ethnic and social segments of the society. The newspapers, local and foreign, often lament what they describe as Malaysia’s racial polarisation – and as in every multiracial society, tensions and hidden resentment are inevitable. But if this is the situation ‘on the ground’, then surely the Malaysian spirit of muhibbah – respect and tolerance for other communities’ way of life – is alive and well. 

by Martin Králik

Customer Service, London style

"To inspire and nurture the human spirit – one person, one cup, and one neighborhood at a time"

This is the mission statement of an international coffee house chain based in Seattle.

09:58 hrs

Here we were in Old London town; 'the home of The Beatles' as I overheard one American tourist stating the day before. It was a crisp, sunny September morning with the muffled sounds of traffic on the Thames and on the nearby streets. People were gathering around the doorway to one of London's coffee houses, close to Tower Bridge. The shop was due to open at 10am and because it was England, people were beginning to form an unofficial queue.

The small group of coffee enthusiasts included a couple of joggers, a man walking his dog (I presume it was his) and an elderly couple who had probably been up for 5 hours already, gasping for some fresh coffee. It was the nearest thing to a 'community' you're likely to see in central London.

10:05

Things were getting abit tense because the coffee shop remained unopened. The queue of coffee drinkers became a little agitated as people began to purse their lips and check timepieces while nodding their heads. It was a massive mistake to make people wait for coffee in the morning but I was certain common sense and good service would prevail...

A good first impression creates rapport and trust

10:06

An employee popped his head up from under the counter inside the shop, where employees can hide if they're having a bad day. He noticed the queue outside and rolled his eyes, his body language betrayed him saying, "Bloody customers, they're here again!" He gave a stern, dismissive look at the small gathering awaiting their morning pints of latte.

You choose to give great service

10:08

When he eventually deemed us worthy to let us in, to our disbelief, he walked to another door (a 2nd entrance at the other end of the shop for invisible customers) and opened that one first! Having executed part one of the opening up process he strolled over towards us, head down, and opened 'our' door like he was doing us a massive favour; like letting the dog out for a run in the garden. I was at least expecting a, "Good morning everyone! Sorry about the wait, I'll be as quick as I can!" He didn't say a word and he didn't make eye contact with us.

Positive Attitude, Courtesy, Timeliness, Trust, Reliability, Quality...

These are just some of the values and emotions that companies want their clients to experience.

In a world in which companies compete fiercely to offer very similar products, customer service will make the difference. That's why organisations spend so much time and money recruiting and training the right people.  Our man failed to provide a basic level of service on this occasion. I'll call him Derek because it's not one of my favourite names.

So what happens when a service provider fails us? As consumers we can simply choose to move on to the next one.

10:10

Some people get more offended than others and when we got inside the shop, I overheard one of the joggers threaten to his partner, "I'm gonna buy two coffees and tip one of 'em over that guy!" (then run, presumably).

The human spirit, eh? One person, one cup, and one neighbourhood at a time, tipping their coffee all over Derek. That's what bad service can do for you.

by Nick Vertigans

A Country that Can

The compelling and successful slogan for Barack Obama’s presidential campaign was “Yes, we can!”

These words resonated strongly with the unbounded confidence and undeniable resilience of the American psyche – the unconquerable spirit of a people who believe that anything is possible in the US of A.

President Obama inherited an unparalleled political, fiscal and social quagmire. He went into this with his eyes open and in the first hundred and fifty days has shown no signs of abandoning his all-out attack on the wide range of problems confronting the nation. It is yet natural that his brave approach has evoked not only considerable admiration, but also a wave of sympathy from observers worldwide.

The current recession, though global, is attributable largely to the profligacy and shabby governance of the previous US administration and the outrageous greed of the banking community that it failed to regulate. The negative current account balance of $800 billion – the benchmark of such profligacy – is unprecedented in American fiscal history or that of any other country. The road to recovery will be long and hard, as shown in depressing economic indicators such as rising unemployment, the spate of mortgage foreclosures, bankruptcies, partial disintegration of the automobile industry and semi-paralysis of the banking system. The Economist rates the USA in 10th place among favourable business environments.

Another major headache for Obama is the poorly functioning healthcare system, in spite of spending more than any other country. Education standards are of great concern. According to the Programme for International Student Assessment (Pisa), instigated by the OECD, the United States languishes in 24th place. Bush left Obama a foreign policy in tatters. If two wars (in Afghanistan and Iraq) were not enough, the US faces ongoing embroilment in disputes between Arabs and Israelis, Taliban-infested Pakistani border areas, al-Qaeda attacks, the threat of nuclear escalations in Iran and North Korea, bitter arguments with Russia over missile defence shields, arms reductions, involvement in “orange” revolutions in Ukraine and Georgia and vociferous accusations from 500 million Muslims of being anti-Islamic (“the great Satan”). In terms of international relations and co-operation, America under Bush experienced friction with her allies over the conduct of the Iraq war, Guantánamo and prison torture, disappointed most major countries with her negative record on climate change and the Kyoto accords and finished up a lamentable 39th in the 2008 Environmental Performance Index.

Obama has asserted that he does not intend to shirk or ignore any of these sorrowful issues, but to tackle all of them simultaneously and advance along a broad front. Yes we can, but can he? Most of the world wishes him success, but where to begin? He might do worse than start in Helsinki, the capital of Finland.

This small pro-Western country of 5 million people is at or near the top of most league tables and offers a blueprint which scores convincingly in areas which plague Obama most. First in the World Economic Forum’s (WEF) list of most competitive countries, it is second (to Singapore) in the business environment index, leads most of the world in R & D expenditure (3.5% of GDP compared with US 2.67%) and is weathering the recession comfortably, running proportionately the biggest fiscal surplus in the euro zone. Instead of bailing out ailing companies, Finland spends her money on retraining workers for technology jobs. Though spending only 7.5% of GDP on healthcare (cf. US 15.9%), Finland has, in tandem with Sweden, the most complete healthcare service in the world (twice as many hospital beds per 1000 as the US). Finland’s infant mortality rate is half that of America.

The Finns are the best educated people in the world, topping the WEF survey (41 countries) year by year in all three key subjects: mathematics, reading and science. Finnish tertiary enrolment in universities is the highest per capita in the world, their gleaming colleges of higher education being visible expressions of the link between knowledge and modernity.

Foreign policy? Finland gained her independence in 1918. In 1939-44, she earned the description “Europe’s Hero Nation”, holding off the Red Army for five years in face of huge numerical superiority, finally securing her independence. Helsinki, London and Moscow were the only belligerent European capitals not occupied during World War II. In spite of the bitter protracted struggle, Finland has maintained good relations with Russia since 1945, trades energetically with her huge neighbour and actually issued 505,000 tourist visas to Russians in 2008. Finland is regarded by the UN as the world’s super Peace-keeper. President Ahtisaari was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2008 for settlements he achieved in Namibia and Bosnia.      

President Obama would find a number of other comforting facts in the Finnish blueprint for future welfare. Finland leads the world in environmental sustainability; she is also world leader in the management of water resources. 

In the international sphere, Finland has an enviable reputation. In fact she has no enemies. Regarded as an ideal EU member – meeting her fiscal commitments and properly observing the union’s regulations – she is respected universally for her ready impartiality, and perhaps most of all her democratic model where flexible, medium-sized parties produce members of parliament who actually strive to carry out the policies they promised to the constituents who elected them. Finland is also admired for her absence of corruption, abhorrence of debt, minimal bureaucracy, nuclear efficiency, prowess in architecture and music, press freedom, talent for innovation, excellent macroeconomic management, observance of legality and generous aid. Obama may well marvel at how an understated society like the Finnish can achieve miraculous progress in so many fields – quickly and modestly. He would get on well with the inhabitants of this Nordic land – a country that could, and did.

by Richard D. Lewis

Japan – why did it take them so long?

On 30 August 2009, a good part of the Japanese electorate finally decided to interrupt the Liberal Democratic Party’s half century in power and gave instead a clear majority to the Democratic Party of Japan.

One can question why it took the Japanese people some 20 years and several elections to decide this political shift ever since the bursting of the economic bubble. This would certainly have not been the case in most Western countries where a percentage of the population happily changes sides at each election.

The answer is partly historical but also cultural.

Historically, ever since Japan’s emergence as a modern state, political parties have tended to be a sideshow to the real business of running the country’s economy. This was left to the various Ministries’ elite bureaucrats who dutifully steered Japan towards prosperity and stability. During the last 50 years or so, the LDP was able to surf on that wave and even after the bubble burst in the late 80s, the politically apathetic public did not mind reconducting the party in power despite the regularly recurring scandals and deepening economic problems facing it.

After all and despite its shortcomings, the LDP was seen as having played an important role in Japan’s overall economic success of the 60s, 70s and 80s and was therefore able to gain a high level of loyalty from a good part of the middle class electorate especially in the countryside. The LDP was able to convince it that there was no other party able to run Japan effectively. Over and over again, the public fell for it.

Culturally, the Japanese are usually very cautious people and are reluctant to change. Stability and patience are also two of their key cultural characteristics. When Junichiro Koizumi became Prime Minister in 2001, there was great popular support and great hope that the LDP was going to change internally under his leadership and that he would be able to introduce the reforms that the country needed.  This was an ideal situation for the electorate as it would not actually and conveniently need to alter its allegiance to the LDP.  On all accounts, this proved to be wishful thinking as much of what was implemented went against many of the traditional Japanese values. Some will be seen later in this article.

The recent world crisis came maybe at the right time or rather at the wrong time for the LDP. After lacklustre performances by three successive Prime Ministers namely Shinzo Abe, Yasuo Fukuda and Taro Aso, each lasting about a year and despite numerous stimulus plans, the Japanese economy is registering its worst performance with a forecasted decrease in 2009 in GDP of 6.2%, with exports having decreased recently by about 50% and unemployment reaching currently 5.7%. This situation helped destroy once and for all both the LDP and the bureaucracy’s reputation for economic competence. As a result, the electorate decided to turn towards the DPJ more out of disgust and despair than real belief that it will solve their problems.

So what will the DPJ do now that it occupies more than 300 seats in the Lower House of the Diet of the 480 available?

The DPJ manifesto is attractive. Some of its promises include large child-care allowances (about 200 euros per child a month), pension guarantees and higher medical spending, tax breaks for small businesses, a postponement for at least 4 years of the increase in consumption tax (VAT) currently set at 5%, income subsidies for farmers, cutting petrol taxes, scrapping expensive highway tolls, allowing greater political autonomy and an end to the bureaucrat-led government.

Although there are worries about how to pay for all these policies, the DPJ maintains that it will be able to finance them by diverting funds from the recent stimulus plans traditionally focused on building more public works and infrastructures such as roads and airports. In its own words, by a transfer from the “concrete” to the “people” as its key slogan is to put “People’s Lives First”. The result is still likely to be a worsening of the fiscal debt amounting already to 180% of the country’s annual GDP.

Other worries lie in the DPJ’s plan to ban the use of temporary workers in manufacturing and to set a higher minimum wage level. The powerful Keidanren, Japan’s Business Federation, is seeing these measures as being counter productive as they will reduce labour flexibility.

Despite its clear victory, many Japanese also wonder how effective its leader, Yukio Hatoyama, will be as Prime Minister. Like all four recent Prime Ministers, he also is a ‘hereditary’ politician with a family having held important positions over three generations in the LDP – his grandfather was actually one of the founders of that Party. Like many older DPJ members, he is in fact a defector from the LDP. With a PHD in Engineering from Stanford University and a higher education from Japan’s top University (Todai), he was really seen more as an academic scholar than a shrewd politician. He actually started his professional career as professor at one of Tokyo’s universities (Senshu). Of course, politics in Japan has for a long time been associated with rich and powerful families who do not have to fight and struggle to get in.

To make things even more questionable, the DPJ, although showing a more social face, is not radically different from the LDP. If the LDP can be categorised as conservative and centre-right, the DPJ can be seen as just a little to the left of it but it would certainly not qualify as being socialist although the Party opposes the kind of privatisation and liberalisation reform that was highly valued by former LDP Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. Socialists and Communists are represented in both Chambers of the Diet but with just a few seats and have never been a threat to the LDP.

An even bigger challenge is the DPJ’s promise to lower and even eliminate the influence of the powerful bureaucracy which has worked hand in hand with the LDP all these years. It remains to be seen how it will handle this very delicate task. As Atsuo Ito, an independent political analyst who recently wrote a book on the Democratic Party, said “the bureaucracy will survive Mr Hatoyama like it survived many past historical events”. The Party’s Manifesto’s pledge to send 100 of its Diet members to various Ministries and Agencies to control them seems quite unrealistic.

Even Hatoyama’s handling of the DPJ itself will not be easy. After all, the Party, founded in 1998, is an amalgam of six smaller parties which have come together in the opposition but who have different views on many issues. Only four newly elected parliamentarians have had ministerial experience in the past, all under the LDP umbrella. The same can be said about his handling of the Party’s ex-leader and powerful figure Ichiro Ozawa, who had to resign his position a few months ago due to a fund-raising scandal.

Although Yukio Hatoyama is often praised for his openness, his idealism, his concern for the public good and his long term vision, his reported lack of leadership and his tendency to change stance are not going to help him in meeting all the challenges that he now has in front of him. Last but not least, his position vis-à-vis the United States and the planned international role of Japan in the coming years remain vague. His statements have shifted from “forging a new and more equal US alliance” to promising “continuity”.

As most of readers will remember, Japan went through a severe economic crisis back in 1989-90 when its ‘economic bubble’ exploded or, more correctly, imploded. The most visible sign was the drop in the Nikkei from a high of almost 40,000 to about 10,000 within a fairly short span of time. The damage to the banking sector was huge and the value of real estate plunged. The government repeatedly announced huge stimulus packages mainly in public works, building more roads, more airports, etc. Many companies were forced to restructure and Japanese workers for the first time started to feel the pain: unemployment increased especially among middle age employees; salaries for the employed were frozen and many were left with negative equity. Interest on savings dropped to basically zero. Even after 20 years, the situation has not improved and annual GDP growth has been minimal.

When one visits Japan however, one cannot fail to notice that it is still a very wealthy country and at first glance does not seem to be in trouble. The number of luxurious cars has never been higher. Foreign brands have taken the opportunity of lower real estate costs to open new flagship stores. New buildings pop up everywhere, whole new districts are developed, department stores are full of well-dressed buyers, restaurants are doing well and people in general continue to look happy. In fact, none of my Japanese acquaintances complained about the economic or political situation. Of course, this was not really a surprise as in Japan one doesn’t criticize unduly nor complain about difficulties and hardships.

In reality however the situation has reached a critical stage. The Nikkei is still around 10,000. The now defunct government and its unpopular Prime Minister Taro Aso, launched four stimulus plans in the last 12 months worth 1,000 billion euros, on a par with the amounts being spent in the US and China. The last phase of this investment programme is supposed to focus on reviving internal consumption, creating employment, helping companies to develop green technology and energy saving industries. It also covers improvements in health, social and education services.

Needless to say, most Japanese viewed these efforts positively even if some of them saw also some clever government maneuvering ahead of the parliamentary elections. This indeed smelled desperately of election strategy coming in addition to the cheque (about 150 euros per person) received earlier this year by all Japanese households.

Under the more popular Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, the government had encouraged the hiring of temporary workers to give more flexibility to companies. As a result, a third of all employees are now temporary workers. This policy created a lot of instability as it made it difficult for people to plan their careers or obtain bank loans to buy property, in addition to going against the Japanese tradition of life-long employment security, which in turn fosters employee loyalty and obedience. In many ways, this measure has had a profound negative effect on Japanese society and many of its core values. The defunct government finally realised this and was planning to promote long-term employment again. Unfortunately, it was too late and this will now be done by the DJP.

The long-term employment system has done well for Japan in the past. The company for many Japanese is like a family, even often the family ahead of wife and children. The employee was ready to sacrifice himself for this family, giving up their bonus or part of their pay for example, for the good of the company. Permanent employment was seen as protecting employees and taking care of their needs in line with traditional Confucian doctrine.

In the meantime, statistics coming out of Japan have been quite alarming. Japan is even now on the verge of losing its number two worldwide economic ranking to China. Of course, Japan cannot be compared to China. China’s economy is continuing to grow as a developing country with a population of 1.3 billion at an annual speed of around 10%. Japan on the other hand has a mature economy with saturated markets. Companies cannot easily find new products/services to sell. Some in despair have even resorted to start selling clothes for dogs and cats!

The aging population, the low birth rate of 1.2 and the decrease in population are also worrisome factors. Projections indicate that the population will decrease to 95 million from the current 128 million by 2050. There may be no other option but to further lengthen the retirement age and possibly lower pension amounts, two measures, which the DPJ has naturally not included in its manifesto. On the contrary it wants to encourage the population to have more children but that measure will take time to become effective.

As one can see, plenty of challenges await the new government. Of course, many of these problems are not unique to Japan. The Western world is struggling with many of them as well.

Since World War 2, Japan has worked hard to become a leading economy. Most of its population has enjoyed the results and experienced the rewards. Japanese people gave ample time and opportunity to the LDP to sort out the country’s problems but instead just witnessed a worsening of the situation year by year. Reluctantly, a majority of the electorate decided without enthusiasm to try someone else. It only took it 20 years to do so. The next 12 months will tell if their decision was the right one.

by Jacques Méon

The Czech Republic's place in Europe: A work in progress

The Czech presidency of the EU ended this June on a mixed note, having confounded allies across Europe. Was it a case of Mitteleuropa eclecticism taken too far, or a deeper reflection of Czech political culture? 

In 1989, the late German-British sociologist Ralf Dahrendorf was one of many culturalists to come up with predictions on eastern Europe’s imminent transformation: he posited that whereas a country’s legal and business environments could complete substantial changes within a matter of years, if not months, a Western-style political culture might take generations to create. This was because unlike institutions, a citizenry’s deep-seated attitudes, values and stereotypes are remarkably resistant to change. 

Twenty years on, Lord Dahrendorf’s postulate rings as true as ever, even when applied to countries such as the Czech Republic, one of eastern Europe’s reform leaders. In truth, many Czechs have hoped to prove his theory wrong – and they had some powerful ammunition to play with: The pre-war Czechoslovak state’s staunch parliamentarianism; the humanist beliefs of its President T. G. Masaryk; a virtual absence in the pre-war days of ultra-nationalist or pro-Nazi sentiment; a lively tradition of voluntary association. In many quarters, even the Austro-Hungarian legacy of Emperor Franz Joseph and his entrenched bureaucracy continue to be a source of pride. 

Yet for all their yearning for a sense of normalcy and a wholesome international image, the Czech elites have on more than one occasion acted against their better judgment to dent that image. In fact, if one were to take a stern view of Czech culture, one might consider this self-defeating bent as one of its hallmarks. Perhaps it is the many centuries of foreign domination that have created an elusive ‘rebel-tyrant’ dichotomy and a penchant for radicalism in the otherwise conservative and at times dowdy Czech cultural psyche. 

Post-1989, this tendency was quick to manifest itself. The then new President Václav Havel, for example, made very public his personal struggle to let go of the ways of his dissident playwright past when he was linked to local underground acts like The Plastic People of the Universe. Attending a Prague concert of The Rolling Stones in 1990, he showed up on stage in a T-shirt sporting  the Stones’ ‘Tongue’ logo. The youthful gesture won him the thumbs up from a New York Times columnist but caused consternation among a big part of the Czech public that had expected the first democratic president they had seen in their lifetime to fit a more ‘classical’ mould. If there was still doubt, Havel’s marriage, less than a year after the death of his first wife, herself a fellow 1970s prisoner of conscience, to a blonde bombshell of a popular comedic actress 17 years his junior only cemented the leadership’s mildly farcical style. 

Those who had expected this wild streak in Czech politics to come to a close with Havel’s departure from office were disappointed yet again. His successor and one-time proudly Thatcherite finance minister Václav Klaus openly embraced a ‘eurosceptic’ (now referred to as ‘euro-realistic’) platform – months before the country’s coveted EU entry that had been 14 years in the making. To make things worse, most general elections since the Czech Republic’s peaceful 1993 separation from Slovakia have produced a hung parliament that saw the fate of successive governments sealed by a single dissenting MP, and protracted periods of interim rule. Following the June 2006 elections, it took 230 days of intense negotiations before a new Czech government could be inaugurated. 

The raised eyebrows soon gave in to a sense of doom as the time arrived for the Czech Republic to assume the rotating EU presidency – one of the very first among EU’s ten new members to do so. Things got off to a rocky start – in fairness, for any newcomer, shaping a 27-nation bloc’s response to events such as the war in Gaza and the Russian gas supply crisis would have been overwhelming. Then, just as Czech diplomacy began notching up a string of successes (US President Obama’s Prague visit; pushing the EU Lisbon Treaty through the Czech parliament), the national government back in Prague was abruptly voted out of office as a result of intra-coalition bickering. What was to be a historic opportunity turned into a lame duck as another chance for the young country to prove itself among the community of European nations was squandered. In the aftermath, the deposed Czech prime minister’s alleged nude appearance weeks later at a party thrown by Italian PM Berlusconi sparked little domestic discussion outside the realm of celebrity-gossip magazines. 

Does this make Czech politics an out-of-bounds subject for foreigners? Hardly; in fact, it can be a handy tool when trying to spice up a subdued conversation over a business lunch. The staggering range of local opinion alone – from nihilist rejection to studious, well-supported hypotheses – renders the topic largely non-controversial. In the process, you may be treated to a hearty dose of Czech humour. Still, there are things to keep in mind:

• Czech history, identity and politics are complex and multi-layered. Therefore, don’t make assumptions. Ask questions instead of expecting your hosts to confirm an understanding you may have formed. Show a spirit of genuine, humble enquiry. 
• Terms like ‘Iron Curtain’, ‘Communism’, ‘Eastern Bloc’ are tossed around freely in the Anglo-Saxon media and pop culture. But to people who lived them rather than heard about them on TV, their significance is very different. 
• At the same time, there is a growing sense of fatigue among the Czech public about fixating on the Communist era that ended 20 years ago. Today’s university graduates would have been three years old at the time, and their mindset reflects that: in this week’s online poll by one of the leading national newspapers, when asked about a famous Czech celebrity’s freshly uncovered links to the pre-1989 secret police, two-thirds of readers (out of a 15,000-strong sample) claimed to be totally unaffected by the news. 
• Be careful about playing fast and loose with the word ‘Russian’/‘Russians’, which is what many Westerners like to do. It is a sure-fire way to earn the locals’ displeasure. Only talk about a Russian if you have a very specific and recent topic in mind. 
• Throwing Czech topics into an ‘East’/‘Eastern’ rubric won’t win you many friends, either. ‘Central Europe’ is a much more acceptable label. The Czechs, like the Slovaks, Poles, Hungarians, Slovenians and Croatians, use the Latin alphabet and look to Rome and to Protestant traditions in terms of religion. The Czech capital is hundreds of miles further to the West than many other ‘western European’ capital cities. Founded in 1348, Prague’s Charles University is by some accounts the oldest in the entire German-speaking region. 
• In May 2004, when the Czech Republic joined the EU, many Western managers greeted their Czech staff with a cheery “Welcome to Europe!”. Although well-meant, it left most Czechs in utter disbelief: Czech people see their culture and history as powerful building blocks in the European edifice – and the millions of foreign tourists marching every year through the many Czech sites of Gothic and Baroque splendour would surely agree. Referring to the Czechs as being somehow separate from ‘Europe’, or anxious to ‘join Europe’, only serves to broadcast the interlocutor’s perceived sense of prejudice. 
• The modern Czech self-perception is a work in progress. A prominent Czech politician had this to say in his recent book about the good rapport he had built with Germany’s Chancellor Angela Merkel: “I don’t know whether it was because she was a woman, or because she was originally from East Germany, or because she was a fellow Conservative...” The country’s many intellectual publications are awash in articles like ‘Towards a Political Psychology of the Czech People’, or ‘Liberal Democracy, Twenty Years After’. Therefore, it is wise not to expect a coherent answer to every question.

by Martin Králik