Cross-Culture

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

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

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

Brazilians – Culture & Identity

Sometimes countries remind me of people – their national characteristics, qualities, resources and impact on others leaving impressions in much the same way that a film-star might. Brazil certainly has a film-like quality to it, and whereas the United Kingdom might remind me of Renée Zellweger, the USA of Bette Midler, and France of Meryl Streep, Brazil for me is definitely Angelina Jolie, with that mixture of beauty, sensuality, danger, and a tendency sometimes to go over the top.

Brazil has seen enormous changes over the last 30 years, most of which I have lived through, and yet Brazil and the Brazilians remain fundamentally the same through the boom and the bust years; they are a friendly, fun-loving, family-oriented, hard working people, who love their country but also love to leave it in search of opportunities wherever they may appear.

The military dictatorship of the 70s gave way to a democratic government in the 80s and by the turn of the millennium the unimaginable had happened – a Socialist, ex-union leader, with no more than primary-level education, was elected President. Luis Ignacio da Silva became President Lula, whose government continued building on the solid economic foundations laid by the previous government of Fernando Henrique Cardoso, an eminent sociologist, economist and author, and father of the Plano Real, the economic plan introduced almost exactly 15 years ago, on 1 July 1994, which enabled inflation to be controlled and allowed Brazil to really begin to fulfil its destiny as the “country of the future”. Almost as unimaginable is the fact that Lula’s present choice for presidential succession (which carries huge weight in the polls), and also one of the most important Ministers in his government, Dilma Rousseff, was active as a guerrilla fighter against the military during the dictatorship.

Brazil has had a long tussle with inflation, and only recently “tamed the dragon”, which has created two distinct groups of citizen: those over 30 who are old enough to remember inflation and understand all of its consequences, and those under 30 who probably never felt inflation in the market or workplace.  Interestingly enough, in the run up to the Plano Real, Banco Central, the Brazilian central bank, was so concerned that there might be a run on the banks, that they had the Casa da Moeda (the mint) print 130 million extra R$100 notes. There was no run as such on the banks, and it took the Central Bank 13 years to use up all those R$100 notes. What remains of inflation is its memory, which continues to create an expectation by investors of high percentage returns on anything they do. An expectation of returns of 30% per year on an investment is commonplace. In fact, share funds which track Ibovespa, based on the Brazilian Stock Exchange, have returned an average of almost 31% in the first 6 months of this year, and no-one thinks this unusual.

But Brazilians survived and thrived even during the so-called “Lost Decade” of the 80s, when the economy was in turmoil and inflation rampant, reaching an unbelievable 40% per month at one point. Brazilians flourish in chaos, whether it be political, economic or even social. Brazil still has an intolerably high rate of illiteracy, a bankrupt educational system, a failing public health system where people die in queues waiting for treatment, and massive poverty, not to mention rampant drug wars in the slums (‘favelas’) and a largely discredited police force. But Brazilians take all this in their stride and believe in their country, in themselves and in their potential for growth, prosperity and happiness.

All Brazilians love Brazil, they salute the flag, and woe-betide any ill-advised foreigner who belittles flag or country. They themselves, on the other hand, are the first to complain about their country, their government, their countrymen and their national football team. There is a well-known Brazilian joke about the Archangel Gabriel questioning God on why he had put so many good things in one place, lush forests, abundant pastures, wide flowing rivers, tall mountains, beautiful beaches and abundant fish and game. God’s reply was: “Just wait until you see the awful people I put there!” But no-one would ever dream of burning the Brazilian flag. There is a national pride that runs through everyone, pride in the country, in its achievements, in its soccer team, its Olympic teams, its Formula 1 drivers, its beaches, its Carnival – “God is Brazilian”.

Brazil stands out from the rest of the film-stars in other ways. When the global crisis was at its worst, and concerned citizens all round the world were pumping up their savings and cutting their spending, Brazilian credit card spending went up 15% quarter-on-quarter, and the new car market boomed; this, admittedly, in part because the government reduced some of the taxation on cars to make them more attractive.

Brazil has close cultural, historic and economic links with Africa and with the Middle East. Much of the vocabulary of Brazilian Portuguese is flavoured by words brought in by slaves from Angola, Guinea and other African countries. The traditional ‘feijoada’ (black bean stew) and ‘moqueca’ (fish stew) are African dishes which came along with the slaves, together with the musicality and rhythm, creating the softness of Brazilian Portuguese when compared with the much harsher, clipped Portuguese of Portugal.

The Portuguese who came to Brazil in the 17th and 18th centuries already brought with them a Moorish heritage, both in terms of culture, traditions and bio-types. The Moors were not finally expelled from the Iberian peninsula until the end of the 15th century after 600 years of Moorish domination. In the late 19th and 20th centuries, there was an enormous influx of Lebanese, Syrians, Egyptians and European Jews into Brazil, which reinforced Brazil’s cultural vocation as a commercial, trading nation. Names like Haddad, Saad, Habib, are common alongside traditional Portuguese names like da Silva or da Costa. On Jewish religious festivals, commerce in the fashionable district of Ipanema in Rio de Janeiro, with its clothes and jewellery shops, closes down.

Brazilians are great communicators. During the 60s, 70s and 80s, Brazilians suffered from a lack of investment in the communications infrastructure and the government monopoly or, at minimum, tight controls, on most types of communication. As late as the mid-90s, Brazil still had a deficit of some 10 million landlines, which, if offered, would have found instantaneous buyers. In 2009, Brazilians are only second to the Americans in numbers of mobile phones. The same is very much the case with the digital revolution in computers. These tools complement the natural pleasure (or need) that Brazilians take in maintaining strong communication with family, friends and business contacts. In fact the relationship with these different groups is much the same. Brazilians are able to play while they work and work while they play. Brazilian businesspeople see social events, family reunions, business meetings, trips to restaurants and even holidays as opportunities to have fun, but also to network and innovate. They are natural entrepreneurs.

Some do’s and don’ts when dealing with Brazilians:

1. Don’t underestimate their business ability just because they don’t have fluent English. Make an effort with the language – it’s really appreciated. Be patient if they want to speak English. Speak slowly and clearly to help them to understand.
2. Don’t assume that they only have one job, or only have one proposition on the go at any one time. Brazilians multi-task in everything.
3. Make an effort to meet their friends and their family. That way you will become part of their accepted circle, and privy to new information, new opportunities. Ask about the family, learn the names of wives, children, brothers. They are important. Show them your world also.
4. Do not criticize Brazil. You can describe what a difficult time you have had with certain aspects of bureaucracy, but don’t criticize the country.
5. Don’t complain about noise – Brazilians are noisy, restaurants are noisy, even cinemas can be noisy. There will be time for serious, quieter conversations later. Enjoy the moment. Show that you know how to have fun.
6. Dress well, even if it’s casual. If you wear jeans, wear quality jeans. Same for moccasins, shirts, etc. Keep yourself well-groomed. Many Brazilians will go to the hairdresser (barber) every 15 days. Many men have regular manicures.
7. Be available to talk any time of day. Do not be surprised to get a phone call at 10 in the evening, it’s more likely than getting one at 9 in the morning. Don’t be reluctant to go out for dinner at 10pm or 11pm. It’s common. Lunches often go on for several hours, so if it’s an important lunch make sure you have some spare time after lunch before your next appointment. Food and drink are important, enjoy your food.
8. Don’t worry if your appointment, meeting, lunch, dinner is an hour or two hours late, it happens all the time and it is not a sign of disrespect.
9. Make sure you always have your business cards or equivalent with you, and make sure you have a working mobile phone (best if you have a local number).
10. Many Brazilians have stereotypes of Americans, Brits, Japanese. Do not disagree strongly with the stereotype, just explain that some people are like that (whatever it is), and show that you are an international person.

by Howard Johnson

Finnish National Pride in an Open Society

I was reminded recently of the old anecdote about Finnish national self consciousness:

A German, a Frenchman, a Russian, and a Finn took part in a writing competition about elephants. The German came up with A Short Introduction to the Physiology of the Elephant (1,500 pages, plus appendices). The French entry was The Love Life of the Elephant. The Russian wrote Elephants in Russia, and the Finn wrote What do Elephants Think of Me?

The Finns really do care about what you think of them.

Last summer I moved from London to Helsinki for a ‘cooler’ change of scenery. This change has given me a different perspective on the country I left behind and an insider’s view of Finland. One of the notable adjustments I have had to make in my new home country is that of living in a nation that spends considerable time pondering what the rest of the world thinks of it. Speaking to my Finnish partner this week she considered the topic and summarised thus, ‘Maybe we (the Finns) do worry what they (the rest of the world) think of us. And maybe we are clumsy communicators, lack confidence and are pre-programmed with a degree of national self doubt.’

Street View

I was talking to a waiter in a Helsinki café this week. He was amazed that I lived in Finland. Partly in disbelief, and partly out of interest, he asked me, ‘How did you hear about us?’ – An amusing turn of phrase which made me feel as if he was interviewing me for a job in the café. In truth he was amazed that someone from London would move to Helsinki. He waxed lyrical about London’s rich history, its reputation as one of the world’s leading financial hubs (until recently) and, even more importantly, the 13 professional football teams based in London. He mentioned The Beatles as well, but I didn’t want to correct him because I’m English and we generally don’t do that unless we absolutely have to.

In truth, Helsinki offers everything you would expect from a great city apart from a 150 year old metro system and a highly respected royal family.  Still, the Finns remain surprisingly reticent about the merits of their capital and country.

Google Street View

For a more modern perspective, consider Google’s recent innovation Street View. The controversial mapping service provides a 360-degree view of streets and buildings including residential addresses, people and cars. Since it was launched two years ago people have complained in their thousands that their privacy and civil rights have been breached.

Take the two men who got caught out just after the UK launch. In one incriminating shot a man was seen exiting a Soho sex shop and another shot included a man vomiting outside a pub. Both images had to be removed from the application soon after the launch following strong complaints from the gentlemen in question.

The Finn’s view

It was interesting to note Finland’s reaction to Street View. As the western world raged against breaches of civil rights and privacy, the Finns were more concerned with Google’s timing to drop by with their cameras in early spring. There were widespread concerns that during this period of transition Finland would not create the right impression (trees without leaves, melting and muddied snow and the sun would be somewhere else, of course). ‘What will the world think of us!’ the Finns cried. Finland’s number one broadsheet Helsingin Sanomat highlighted the view of many Finns stating that the primary concern was to create the right impression, and hoped that the pictures ‘came out alright’.

The Brits on the other hand are more concerned with what they can edit so they don’t get caught out doing things they shouldn’t. There is an interesting juxtaposition as Britain’s leading politicians currently face their own challenges around declaring and editing the truth.

Transparency and Openness

So there we are, the Finns are committed to openness and honesty, whilst lacking self assurance about their country. I wonder if this is a consequence of being ‘up front’?

The Brits, in contrast, appear to be able to cover things up and still remain proud of their nation.

Keeping to the rules is hard and places a lot of emphasis on order. Finland enjoys a surprisingly transparent political process which most European countries would not believe.

Secretary General of The Finnish Parliament, Seppo Tiitinen, delivered a short speech two weeks ago. He spoke of parliament’s open policy towards the media and the public in Finland and asserted, ‘the best safeguard against corruption is openness’.

Is everyone else just hiding behind their national pride? 

by Nick Vertigans

Indian Jugaad

As a cross-culturalist, it is fascinating to become immersed in a less familiar culture and find out something new. It tends to happen quite quickly, as you have an idea in advance of the sort of thing you are looking for. For me, it is to find qualities which are not found in quite the same form anywhere else. Defining concepts which capture in brief the essence of a culture – such as Finnish sisu, German Ordnung, or Korean kibun.

In India recently for a workshop tour to Bangalore, Mumbai and Delhi, I was about to start for the day when the organiser said there was a problem with the projection screen. It was a metre too low, so those at the back would not have been able to see the bottom of my slides. He called over the lone technician at the 5 star hotel conference centre and told him he had 10 minutes to resolve the situation. It was a huge and heavy screen with a large wooden surround with the management school’s logo on it. Impossible to lift alone. Within seconds the room was bustling with people, ranging from the conference centre manager to kitchen staff. Trestle tables, starched white cloths, various random pieces of wood, ropes, hammers and nails appeared. The screen teetered into the air precariously, just missing the rather large chandeliers. A collective effort raised it onto the now neatly-covered tables and a disorderly banging and shuffling began behind it. When the course participants began filing in, the set-up was perfect: screen one metre higher; looking as if it had always been like that. Not a workman in sight. I glanced behind it and observed that it was held up by a Heath-Robinson-style rickety wooden framework secured by long guy-ropes. It served its purpose all day. Next morning the screen was held in place invisibly and professionally.

Asking my Indian friends about this later, they said it was a perfect example of Jugaad – best described as a sort of hurried collective resourcefulness; a finding of an alternative, laterally-thought out solution - which somehow works against the odds – gaining time by acting before the proper means to carry out the job arrive, maybe using your connections, and possibly bending some rules along the way.

In concrete terms, a Jugaad is also a locally made motor vehicle used mostly in small villages as a means of low cost transportation and made by carpenters, who fit a diesel engine to their contraption. The brakes often fail – but, no worries, as a passenger will jump off and apply a manual wooden block as a brake. More Jugaad, in other words.

Jugaad can also be used in the context of management. In the West we may sometimes be hidebound by our solid structures and processes, too tied to facts and rules. Jugaad could be seen as a sort of out-of-the-box and network-style thinking that could serve us well in times of change, crisis and in extreme circumstances. It requires people to use skills outside the ones they may have been employed for, and which usually go unexploited. It requires strong collaborative skills. It means an open mind and boundless flexibility.

A recent comparative report by McKinsey on the relative strengths of India and China identified Indian flexibility as a key ‘soft competitive edge’ that India has.

Another Indian characteristic – the belief in Karma or fate – can sometimes be used as way of excusing things which go wrong. Even the most sophisticated and western-influenced Indian manager is likely to retain, at a deep level, a belief in Karma.

On the other hand, it can be a great stimulus to take the risks that may be needed to effect real change. If things turn out badly, then that was meant to happen – so you may as well take the leap of faith and be bold.

In our current global recession it is likely to be the bold, flexible and resourceful who survive.

We can learn a lot from India.

by Michael Gates

Open Spaces and the Arabian Gulf

Have been busy travelling so not posted anything for a while. But I just got a great mail about cultural matters in the Gulf from one of our blog readers, Martin Kralik, and quote it straight. Thanks Martin - saved me a job ;)

This blog has posited the powerful yet all-too-often overlooked idea that most of the tangible, material aspects of our societies are physical manifestations of our cultural values, beliefs and preferences. Societies that are going through economic hyper-growth and rapid change offer particularly good illustrations of this point. For instance, the Arab countries of the Gulf region are in the process of reshaping dramatically their infrastructures, urban landscapes, and lifestyles.

For observers of cross-cultural interaction, these developments provide the added bonus of witnessing a constant stream of Western consultants, architects, planners and designers visiting the region. They come to share (and sell) advice on how to turn cities across the Gulf into ‘great cities’ that will attract more investment, tourism and talent.

More often than not, the advice, while well-meant, is rooted in heavily Western / Anglo-Saxon notions of what constitutes good urban planning and a well-functioning city. In fact, the more dramatic the ideas, the more comically they sometimes fall off the mark.

Let’s start with the Gulf’s most ubiquitous species – the car. On his visit to UAE, London’s former mayor Ken Livingstone had some simple, and much-publicized, advice for Dubai and Abu Dhabi: “Get rid of the cars.” Granted, global financial centres do typically require world-class public transportation systems. Similarly, a variation on London’s congestion charge may one day become a useful tool in battling UAE’s ever-growing traffic jams. But how likely are UAE residents to abandon their top-of-the-line LandRovers, RangeRovers and other SUVs in favour of public transport, once the option becomes available to them? My experience from living in UAE for the past 12 months would suggest: Not very.

The answer lies only as far as the minds and preferences of the local people: Not only is the motorized vehicle a useful transportation tool for large families and their maids, it is also a status symbol. The recent ‘global’ instinct to trade in the SUVs for smaller models, or switch to hybrid fuels, has had no impact on this part of the world: After all, petrol is cheap and recycling or environmental protection of any kind have never been a concept to begin with, at least as far as the middle-class consumer psyche is concerned. To accommodate the SUVs, the government has for the past 20 years built roads that would be considered illegally wide by international standards.

Much more so than in the West, the car projects the owner’s sense of power and machismo. Ever read about the Gulf’s traditional pastimes in an airline magazine? They include horse racing, camel racing, falcon racing… The list goes on. This is the stuff that has built a sense of masculinity in many generations of local men. Is it any surprise then that so many drivers think of the city roads as their racing track – beating traffic lights, speeding past schools and residential neighbourhoods, and honking pedestrians off the zebra crossing?

Beyond the infatuation with speed, the car offers a sense of separation and insulation – from the heat and dust of the streets; from the crowds of immigrant labourers who usually don’t share the local owner’s faith, race or language, let alone lifestyle; from the pedestrians’ random glances (to this end, most of the car windows are tinted [again – illegally, at least ‘on paper’] to protect the driver’s female offspring from unwanted attention).

A similar clash of cultures can be seen in discussions on public space, particularly shared spaces. Unsurprisingly, Western architects’ ideas in this area are strongly democratic and egalitarian: The more open space and public parks, the better. To their way of reasoning, what could be more joyous for a city than to have all its residents mix in the same space, regardless of creed and status? But, as is so often the case, ‘the reality doesn’t quite work that way.’ The harsh climate has always encouraged the affluent coffee aficionado to migrate indoors, to the latest and most opulent air-conditioned shopping mall. Men tend to fraternize in different establishments than women/families. In addition, there is a huge gap between locals and foreigners in spending power; among the locals, the civil servants are different from private sector employees in their working hours, dress code and dining habits. Looking at local people’s homes gives yet more clues: How likely is someone who chooses to live in a 12-bedroom villa, behind the high walls of a family compound, to embrace openness of the Western kind and mix freely with residents from all walks of life?...

Finally, why is it that with so much massive investment into new infrastructure and architecture, the new face of the oil-rich Gulf city is essentially the same from Dubai to Doha and Jeddah?... Why the same marinas, man-made islands, corniches and clock towers?... Are they the only artefacts that money can buy? Are there only a handful of architectural firms on hand to come up with the designs? No – they are reflection of what the people who live in these cities believe to be modern, luxurious and sophisticated. Coming as they are from the same, rather homogenous culture, the physical outcome of their dreams and ambitions is correspondingly homogenous.

by Martin Kralik (via Michael Gates)

“Froggies” v. “les Rosbifs”

It could be said that the English and the French do not get on together as well as they should. It is not unusual in this world for neighbours to be critical of each other – and this may be part of the story – but the centuries-long, cross-channel sniping has a certain strangeness about it.

Cultural misunderstanding usually arises either on account of differences in communication style or, weightier still, basic values. The French manner of speech is more extrovert than that of the English. Not only do they use four times as many words, but they gesticulate with hands and arms, shrug mightily, pout and perorate; most of the time they talk down their nose. These mannerisms irritate the English, whose stiff-upper-lip facial mask and folded arms annoy the French with their opaque aloofness.

Interestingly, when we come to values, we find that French and English core beliefs are almost identical. Reaction to world crises or other significant events are strikingly similar. This is not as strange as it might seem. The two peoples have long shared a plethora of convictions and experience. Both were former superpowers with far-flung colonies and empire, adventurous explorers on land and at sea, champions of the Christian religion, science and the arts, bastions of freedom and latterly, democracy, prominent in military history and allies in two world wars. The common heritage is as evident as it is compelling.

Why, then, this persistent friction? Is one side more to blame than the other? As a native of the North of England (dangerously close to Scotland), I tend to sympathise with the French. People who hail from either side of the Pennines often view their southern compatriots as virtual foreigners – at best tweedy and posh, at worst smug, snobbish and patronising. No wonder the French find them cold, opaque and illogical. Not renowned for their patience, our Gallic friends often dismiss the English as insular, impenetrable eccentrics who rarely can be relied upon (‘perfidious Albion’) and drive on the wrong side of the road.

Yet the English seem more scornfully dismissive of the French, especially the males. The caricature is disparaging: the dangling Gauloise, the wine-soaked moustache, the stupid beret, the theatrical, whining eater of raw garlic and frogs’ legs. Not very flattering. How poorly this compares with the (somewhat misty) image of the heroic Anglo-Saxons of the past – narrowly defeated at Hastings but perpetuating, through the centuries that followed, indomitable English traditions of honest toil, wholesomeness and ultimate invulnerability.

The Norman Invasion of 1066 was the last the English had to suffer (England had a history of constant occupation – Celts, Romans, Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Vikings, Danes). But just what did we suffer? What did we lose or gain?

The arrows had barely stopped flying at Hastings when William the Conqueror embarked on an ambitious construction programme. His specialities were cathedrals and castles, built mainly with French stone imported from quarries across the Channel. The magnificent cathedral edifices of Winchester, Canterbury, Durham and Norwich were speedily erected to match, in their Gothic splendour, their cousins in Chartres, Rouen and Amiens. Imposing castles were built in Windsor, Arundel and Colchester as well as further north in Harlech, Caenarvon, Conway and Newcastle. More than 50 forts were constructed before William’s death in 1087. More than 1,200 religious foundations were established the length and breadth of the land, where Cistercian, Carthusian and Benedictine monks employed thousands of Saxon workers, to whom they introduced sheep and the wool trade, which propelled English country life and prosperity for nearly a thousand years.

The Normans were not interested in settling the land as the Saxons and many Vikings had done. They came to England to rule it. It was largely an upper-class affair – the 10,000 men who followed William represented only 1% of the population but they were la crème de la crème. Among them were 5000 mounted cavaliers. The invention of the stirrup produced cavalry, then knights and the (French) concept of chivalry (rooted in the world of the cheval). William’s followers became bishops, barons, knights and grandees. Thus was born the English aristocracy and class system with its connotations of respect for property, land ownership and law. The subsequent Kings of England had French blood – the only dyed-in-the-wool English ruler since 1066 has been Oliver Cromwell.

Though place names have remained largely Saxon or Scandinavian, people’s names show Norman influence, particularly in the upper and middle class families – the De Veres, Montforts, Mortimers, Mowbrays, Lacys, De Mandevilles, De Villiers. The working classes also changed their names to Norman versions. Ethelred, Godwin, Alfred, Wulfstan and Godric became William, Robert, Roger and Geoffrey. When surnames came into vogue at the end of the 15th century, most of them were Norman in choice. Even today football fans worship Gascoigne, Neville, Venables, Sinclair, Terry, Lampard, not to mention obvious ones such as Le Saux and Le Tissier.

The most pervasive element of the Norman invasion was that of language. While we retained such mundane Saxon and Viking words as houses, homes, ships, souls, sea, sky, cows, sheep, calves and swine, the Normans brought in vocabulary redolent of a more elegant, civilized way of life, with romance, beauty, courtesy, palaces, savoir faire, tête-à-tête, élite, encore, panache, coup d’état, fait accompli, dénouement, en route, milieu, par excellence, banquet, buffet, bon-vivant, gaffe, débacle, débris, à la mode, chauffeur, pied-à-terre, rendez-vous, joie de vivre, au revoir, débutante, entrepreneur, entrée, camaraderie, nouveau riche, esprit de corps, maitresse, déjà-vu, bidet, boudoir and raison d’être. In culinary matters they swamped us with haute cuisine, maître d’hotel, dessert, soup, sauce, sausage and much more.

There are about 10,000 words of French origin in the English dictionary. To say they enrich our language (including that of Chaucer and Shakespeare) is something of an understatement. Cross-channel loan words going the other way are a poor recompense. Le building, le meeting, le businessman, le shopping, le jogging demean French rather than enhance it.

By the reign of Henry II, the English nation had a fulsome Norman legacy in the political, military, religious, commercial and administrative spheres. The Normans also gave us our gardens, vineyards, hunting on horseback. They can be seen as the bringers of civilization, especially among fans of the Gothic. “England still laments the coming of William the Conqueror,” wrote Thomas Carlyle,” but without him, consider what had we ever been?”

With one thousand years of inter-marriage on these islands, who is English and who is Norman? The Norman invasion of England was the last one; it was certainly the most benign. “Our island story,” wrote Robert Winder, “a convulsive saga of class animosity and inequality, would be shaped forever by this superior elite.”

I live in the Meon Valley of Hampshire where the farmers look out over the Channel and go on about ‘them’ and ‘us’, repeating a centuries-old national myth. But what if ‘we’ are ‘them’ and moreover, the better for it?

Long Live the Anglo-Norman Kingdom.

by Richard D. Lewis

German or Global?

The CEO of Siemens announced last week that his priority for his second year in charge would be to improve the ‘global diversity’ of managers and warned that Germany's competitiveness could be threatened if it failed to do so.

"The management board are all white males. Our top 600 managers are predominantly white German males. We are too one-dimensional," he said in an interview to mark his first year in charge, according to the Financial Times.

He is not alone. Jorma Ollila, while CEO of Nokia, said that his company had to reflect its key markets in the internal diversity of its staff.

Of course, as the FT goes on to point out in its leader, you have to strike a balance. There are many admirable qualities of German companies, such as their reliability and technical prowess; their long-termism, and the consensus between management and workers that has increased competitiveness through wage restraint.

When diversity is encouraged, yet managed and anchored in some common values which everyone understands and shares, it can be powerful indeed. Not just in business, but also in nations.

We have seen how the various ‘-isms’ of the 20th century have resulted in warfare, oppression and economic failure. They have been rooted in the belief that there is an absolute truth or one way of doing things.

The USA, of course, is the prime example of a nation that has achieved economic success by managing to get a truly diverse set of people to stick, on the whole, to some core beliefs – such as that anyone can succeed; that you can take risks without too much fear of failure, and that you can learn from your mistakes. Outside of this set of beliefs, you are encouraged to be different, and diversity is in general respected.

The USA has not been doing well in the global popularity stakes in recent years, and certainly, in politics, the media and in business, one could say that it may have tried to export its way of doing things rather vigorously.

But in Europe, where countries like the UK, Germany, the Netherlands and Belgium are struggling with questions of national identity, we could learn a lot from the Americans. At least they have had a clear and shared sense of purpose, while encouraging and supporting difference.

Getting the balance between diversity and shared values right is vital for business success in a changing world as well.

by Michael Gates