Cross-Culture

Civil War in Spain? Catalunya pulls back from the brink

On 11 September 2012 over a million people took to the streets of Barcelona in a huge demonstration in favour of independence from Spain.

Just two weeks later, building on the impetus for self-government, the Catalan President Artur Mas brought forward regional elections by two years, pledging to hold an early referendum on Catalunya's political status and possible independence.

Shortly after in October, in the Basque Country, two separatist parties dominated the elections to the Basque Parliament by winning two thirds of the seats.

Facing the constitutional crisis of a possible breakaway of two of its Regional Autonomies, Spain waited with apprehension. The sabre-rattling ripostes and political condemnation were not long in coming:

• Ex-Army officer, Colonel Alaman publicly calls for military intervention in Catalunya;
• In a counter demonstration against independence for Barcelona, right arms are seen raised in the classic Fascist salute;
• In late November in the editorial of the official Army Magazine 'Ejercito', General Pontifas Deus denounces President Mas for his 'more than outrageous plans for self-government';
• In Brussels, Spain's Partido Popular Minister of Defence denies any knowledge of any 'Movement' in the Military, or any use of the Military as a mouthpiece for others;
• There are calls for the arrest of President Mas, possibly for treason.

With hindsight perhaps there was an over-reaction to the crisis. But for the Right and many traditionalists in the country, the unity of Spain is sacrosanct. Even today.

This concept of a united Spain has long been a challenge for Catalans, especially those whose language and family roots are Catalan. They have an intense sense of pride in their Catalanism, which combines within it an almost spiritual love of their language and culture and historical identity, within Spain but not necessarily of it. Catalans feel different, and in their history there is much to confirm this.

Having been settled firstly by the Greeks, Catalunya became the most completely romanized region of Iberia and had the least contact - at most 80 years - with the Moors during the seven centuries of Moorish occupation of the majority of the peninsula. From the 12th to the 14th centuries, Catalans, in a sophisticated confederacy with the Aragonese, dominated large parts of the Mediterranean, ruling Sardinia, Corsica and most of present-day Greece, and controlling the gold trade with Sudan.

But one of the most surprising aspects of this empire was the political and administrative structure that supported it. From the early 13th century Catalunya had a three-chamber form of parliament, the Corts, which passed all legislation and the Generalitat, which organised tax raising and expenditure. It was a very good time to be Catalan. When Queen Isabella in the beginning of the 16th century banned the Catalans from trading with the New World of the Americas, domination by Spain or the Central Government was to become their destiny for the next five centuries.

Every country has an event or events in its past which by repetition over the years form an emotive part of their historical identity and the date is familiar to all. For the English, 1066, the Battle of Hastings and the start of the Norman Conquest is the one we remember. For the Catalans it is 11 September 1741, during the War of Spanish Succession. After a year's siege Barcelona was finally captured by the French and Spanish armies who raised a third of the city to the ground. The 11 September is now the National Day of Catalunya and was also the date of Barcelona's latest demonstration for Independence from Spain.

But is it possible that what might most colour Catalunya's view of their relationship with Madrid are events in the 20th century, still within living memory of older citizens? In 1939, the final defeat of the Republican Government by Franco's Nationalist troops took place in Barcelona. It was effectively the end of the Civil War. The campaign against the Catalan language culture and people unleashed on Franco's victory was devastating. Any public use of the language was banned and any books in Catalan including priceless and irreplaceable private collections were destroyed. Street and town names were given Spanish names. Catalan went underground.

This discrimination damaged the language but what caused far more linguistic damage longterm were the 'tidal waves' of Spanish-speaking immigrants, mainly from Andalucia and mostly semi-literate: a quarter of a million in the forties, half a million in the fifties, and almost a million in the sixties. Absorption into the local population as had happened with previous immigrants was almost impossible as the new immigrants often lived in their own 'barrios' speaking Spanish which was also the language used in education. Spanish increasingly became the language of preference for domestic use, even in Catalan homes. Figures for 1975 show that Catalan was spoken in only 39% of homes in Barcelona.

So do these figures have any relevance in 2012? To some extent certainly. Girona's mayor, Carles Puigdemont identifies the original source of the desire for separatism: "We have our own language, our own culture, it's in our DNA." he might have been heartened to see flags of Andalucia among the Catalan pro-separatist flags fluttering from the balconies. Other pro-separatist politicians, seeing the huge increase in the movement of workers following the EU open border policy, must be asking themselves how this is affecting voting patterns. Without the DNA will those recent citizens be ready to take the risk of supporting Independence?

Carme Chacon, a Catalan, a dynamic politician and former Defence Minister in Zapatero's Socialist Government, sees it from a broader perspective. She favours the concept of smaller states within a Federal Europe, "different but united."  She sees herself as one of the many Catalans who have roots in other regions of Spain. Her father came to the north from Andalucia and her grandfather was an anarchist from Aragon. She declares "I am a Catalan, a Spaniard and a European. And I do not want anyone to oblige me to choose."

If her views are shared by many in Catalunya, could it be that Catalanism or cultural identity is not what has provoked this present independista crisis?  It is certainly underpinning it, but as Bill Clinton said, in another place and at another time, "It's the Economy, stupid."

It is difficult to believe, on the face of it, that this could be the case with Catalunya. Its reputation as the powerhouse of Spain for its industrial and commercial success, are supported by the statistics. It provides 20% of Spain's GDP, 25% of Spain's tax revenue, 35% of Spain's exports including 45% of high-tech exports, and 25% of Spain's tax revenue (2009 figures). In spite of this, Catalunya is €42 billion in debt. And the root cause of this situation lies in Catalunya's political State of Autonomy and its fiscal relationship with Madrid.

For Spain, though composed politically of regions with autonomy, has a centralised tax collection system. It was formulated in 1978 in the difficult days of Spain's fledgling democracy which followed 40 years of repressive dictatorship under General Franco, after the Civil War in the late 1930s.  Only the Basque Country and Navarre were allowed to raise their own taxes, a traditional right with its roots in the fueros of medieval times.

Put rather simplistically, Madrid levies the taxes and returns to each autonomy a percentage in services and investment. The difference between these two sums is the fiscal deficit. In the case of Catalunya, Madrid raises 95% of the taxes, and Catalunya raises 5% to cover its Social Services, including Healthcare and Education.  Figures from the Generalitat show that between 1986 and 2009 the fiscal deficit ran on average at 8% of GDP per annum and in that last year Catalunya contributed €16.4 billion (8.4% of GDP) more in taxes than it received from Madrid in state services and investment. Alternatively one could say that amongst the autonomies, Catalunya was the third highest contributor of taxes to central government, but was eleventh highest in what it received back from Madrid.

To put into perspective the damage this causes to the Catalan economy, the Cercle Catala de Negocis has cited a telling analogy: Japan's Tsunami Disaster caused an estimated loss of 3.6% - 5.7% of its GDP.

The strain that the increase in the fiscal deficit has placed on relations between Madrid and Catalunya was exacerbated by the sense of anger and betrayal felt by the Catalans over the fate of their new Statute of Autonomy of 2006. After four years of negotiations, this had been approved by the Catalan Parliament in September 2005, by the Spanish Congress in March 2006 and ratified in Catalunya by a majority vote in a referendum. It gave Catalunya extensions of rights in the Judicial system, Catalan language status, immigration controls, taxes and access to loans, and the right for Catalunya to be referred to as a nation.

The frustration felt then when an appeal to the Spanish Constitutional Court was filed by the conservative Partido Popular party was as nothing compared to the severe shock delivered by the Court's ruling in 2010 when the appeal was upheld. Fourteen articles of the Statute had been abolished and twenty-six were to be seriously amended: these changes struck at the very structure of civil, political and judicial administration in Catalunya. And as for the Autonomy's right to Nation status? It was deemed unconstitutional.  For Catalans, this was insult added to injury.

Of course many in Central Government and in the rest of Spain have a different perspective on the Catalan position. Barcelona is seen as an avant-garde, vibrant city rich in Art and Culture with a thriving port. As an autonomy, it is able to take advantage, as a gateway to Europe, of its geographical location on Spain's north-east Mediterranean coast, sharing a border with France. It is famous for its tourism, but respected and somewhat envied for its highly successful commercial and industrial sectors especially textiles, biotechnology - and wine production.  Whereas other Spanish autonomies with much lower GDPs, perhaps traditionally more rural and sometimes disastrously less well developed, have not only seen their budgets shredded, social programmes slashed, mounting redundancies in local government and private sectors, and rocketing unemployment especially among the young, all causing real poverty. Many therefore are tempted to see Catalans as 'spoilt children' trying to hold onto their 'goodies', exploiting their role as perennial victims of the wicked Central Government. Madrid seems to see its present fiscal policy towards Catalunya, however contentious, as trying to maintain the 1978 concept of regional autonomies, offering them 'cafe para todos'. This tends to be seen then (amongst other less altruistic motives) as an opportunity for radical wealth redistribution in favour of poorer regions of Spain, especially in the light of the euro crisis and diminishing EU funding.

But the Catalans are also suffering.  With their lack of fiscal control, faltering GDP and high tax rates, including the highest income tax rate of 56%, they share increasingly with other autonomies and European countries many of the problems referred to above.

So was the constitutional crisis all media hype?

The regional elections on 25 November took place with no military coup, but also without the President Artur Mas winning the outright majority he needed for his party, the CiU, to call for a referendum. Even worse, voters' support for the CiU dropped 8%, and their representation in the 135-seat parliament dropped from 62 seats to 50. They are still the largest party, but only in coalition can they function.

An anti-climax perhaps? Not necessarily if one examines the voting pattern. Naturally enough the Partido Popular leader Mariano Rajoy with schadenfreude was predictably scathing in his judgement of the Catalan President - perhaps he wished to divert attention from two very unpalatable facts.  Firstly that just under two thirds (87) of parliamentary seats are now held between four parties who either support at least a referendum on independence or those who openly campaigned on a more radical independista policy, such as Oriol Junqueras. He is leader of the party Esquerra Republicana Catalunya (ERC) which doubled their seats at the elections to become the second largest party. The high turnout of voters, 68%, more than two thirds of eligible voters, confirms the strength of the wish for constitutional change, which many political commentators feel Madrid should not ignore.

However, instead of compromise, Madrid appears to favour the policy of attack being the best form of defence.  The Minister for Education, José Ignacio Wert, is advocating much of Michael Gove's proposals for English education: league tables, privatisation, etc. But what has caused enormous offence to Catalunya is his attack on bilingual education policy, downgrading the status and use of Catalan to a specialist subject, and conversely defining Spanish as the main language of education.

Opposition is widespread and strong: 71% against in a December poll, but the most scathing appraisal is the article by internationally renowned Fernando Vallespin (Professor of Political Science and Administration and Director of Political Theory at Madrid's Universidad Autonoma) in El Pais on 7 December 2012. He says:

"Faced with the state of the current situation in Catalunya, what could be more rash than to aggravate them on the question they are most sensitive about, the defence of their language...What it shows is that (Madrid) has not bothered to find out absolutely anything about what is happening there, nor has it understood the basic message coming from the ballot box."

[Spanish original: "Ante la situación que estamos viviendo en Cataluña, ¿cabe algo más imprudente que tocarles en el punto más sensible, la defensa de su lengua?...Significa no haberse enterado de nada de cuanto está ocurriendo allí, ni haber entendido el mensaje fundamental emanado de las urnas."]

He also urges that party politics should be put aside…this circumstance demands a renewal of the constitutional agreement, seeking those outside politics who are capable of generating the maximum possible consensus. He concludes with these words:

"The Government is far too arrogant and doctrinaire and it lacks the will and ability to encourage efforts to be made towards a grand State plan. It has chosen the opposite option and we shall all pay the price."

[Spanish original: "Al Gobierno le sobra soberbia y doctrinarismo y le faltan la voluntad y la capacidad para adicionar fuerzas en torno a un gran proyecto de Estado. Ha elegido la opción contraria y lo pagaremos todos."]

He is the expert, but will they listen to him.

So will Catalunya pull back from the brink? Perhaps if Malta and Estonia can pull off being small independent countries in the EU, this ancient Catalan region will be encouraged to take that leap to escape their present near-impossible relationship with Madrid and Spain.

But Brussels has just confirmed that Scotland's exit from the United Kingdom would mean also giving up its EU membership. To renegotiate entry could be long and costly. Catalans have a reputation for being financially canny and having great common sense - an honourable compromise may yet be reached. For the whole is often worth more than the sum of its parts. Good Luck, Spain.

by Sheila Profit

Is there such a thing as the French Dream?

When my British friends and family tell me “you’re practically French now,” I have to say, I am still a little surprised. It’s true that I think that having lived in France for most of my adult life after spending my childhood and student years in the UK, I don’t consider myself as either British or French. I’m certainly more European than anything and my culture is a real mixture of Anglo thinking and Mediterranean living.

It’s true that as I go about my daily life in France I have the impression that my “Englishness” goes practically unnoticed. I am able to blend into the physical Mediterranean landscape and on a good day my Anglo lilt is often mistaken for some other accent whose origins are anywhere north of Provence.

I have embraced French life and culture as though it was my life’s vocation and I remember dreaming about life in France since I was a teenager. But as I move towards the half-way mark (i.e. more of my life spent away from the UK than in it), I ask myself whether the French dream has – and does – live up to expectations.

Along with the lifestyle, climate and culture, France has a good economic flag to fly and I can quote any number of projects and achievements that makes me delighted to live in the country. I still marvel with admiration every time I step on the TGV in Aix en Provence to arrive only 3 hours later in the capital.  

And then there’s the people themselves. When I hear the French talking about the French, they often mention how much they complain. “It’s an essential part of our culture,” one of my friends tells me. And it is true that the appointment of a new government, a new football manager or a new boss is often an open invitation to criticism.  I revel in the passionate discussions I hear (and participate in) at dinner tables and admire how the French are fervent debaters in whatever is the subject of the moment.

Yet, does all this discussion exist just for discussion’s sake or is it part and parcel of their natural resistance to change? Keeping what you have is a very strong French value and I have witnessed many battles on this subject fought and lost over the years. But having an opinion and expressing it is as important a part of French culture as is resisting whatever law, rule or idea is put down in front of them. So when you combine these three aspects of the culture, you get what some people perceive as “French arrogance”. I see it more as a way of being heard, included and participating in the change process without feeling that they have been subjected to it. It doesn’t mean that things don’t change, they just take a whole lot more time to do so than many other cultures are used to.

And change is definitely on France’s agenda. The recent electoral swing to the left has generated new hope for many, in spite of many of the unpopular changes and reforms that Hollande and his government are about to put into place.

Irrespective of their political beliefs, most of my entourage is relieved to see the back of Sarkozyism and as one person put it, unlike Sarkozy, Hollande actually went to political school so he knows how to govern. This is one of the first cultural gulfs I had to deal with when arriving in France that bounces back at me time and time again. In other words, if you went to the right school, you’re fit for the job. You can have all the potential in the world, but if you don’t have the qualifications, your skills and experience are worth little unless you are given the opportunity to prove otherwise.

And in the employment context I think this still rings very true today. An American friend of mine went for an interview recently at a recruitment agency. When asked what kind of job she would like to apply for, given her experience in a number of senior positions spanning over a 20 year career in France, she explained that there are any number of positions she could fill. Launching into a justification of the unstable job market today the recruiter explained: “employers are taking fewer and fewer risks and are therefore clinging more and more onto the qualifications of their potential employees as a reliable form of employability. And because of this you don’t really fit into any one particular position.”

Contrary to many of my French counterparts, as I was growing up, I was encouraged to seek out 3 or 4 different careers throughout my lifetime and challenge and variety is still something I cherish today. With my go-out-and-get-it attitude, at 16 I began my retail Saturday job career. But today’s young French have not been brought up in the same way. Work experience from an early age is a rarity, but becoming a necessity. The degree in the pocket is not enough to secure the long term employment that their parents or grandparents were guaranteed.

Many are seeking opportunities overseas as one alternative. In France, instead of falling into jobs that are the perfect match for their qualifications, many youngsters are obliged to work for virtually (and sometimes) nothing to gain the experience and improve their chances of being a better candidate than the other thousands applying for the same job. And that’s if the job hasn’t already been ear-marked for someone who knows someone who knows someone…

This may seem a pretty gloomy outlook, but France is still advocating the merits of its education system as the key to employment success. Last week Le Monde was still encouraging the diploma route by headlining articles such as “a degree is still the best employment guarantee” (Le Monde 05 July 2012) and  “job opportunities are more and more rare without qualifications” (Le Monde 14-16 July 2012). But this clearly isn’t enough for young people seeking jobs in France today.

It is not as simple as saying it’s all about where you went to school or who you know, but this is definitely a factor that is still influencing the French job market today. Over the years I have learned the art of successful networking in France and most of my work today is based on referrals. You may argue that this is the case in many countries, but the “who-you-know” aspect is still very prevalent.

When a friend of mine explained to me recently that she has bid for 5 big tenders this year and won none of them, she later discovered that the work had been allocated before the bid was published. I can’t help asking myself in France today where the emphasis lies between striving for excellent results and building excellent relationships.

Living in the South of France, the latter is so often the most natural option. Some of my most successful business meetings have taken place in sites of natural beauty, or whilst sharing some gastronomic moment with a client. This aspect of French culture lends itself so well to relationship building and it’s no surprise that it has been one of the more popular ways of enticing inward investment over the years. But for how long can it ride on its epicurean lifestyle, sublime climate and exquisite scenery?

I am actively involved in the Mediterranean Anglo-American Business Network where for the past 5 years we have been holding monthly networking events in English. We attract many French native speakers who like the refreshing alternative to doing business. And we are successful because we have taken the best of all of our cultures.  We have combined the qualities of the French culture (relationship building, good food, drink, climate, etc…) and put them into an Anglo business context (sociable, casual, no-fuss straight-talking) to produce what seems to be an attractive way for the French to do business.

The success of our events brings me back to the question of the French dream. I think that it is still worth pursuing, albeit a little bit differently. Living and working in France has brought me so many challenges on a practical level, especially running my own business. But in spite of the difficulties many of us are facing today in France, “enjoying life” still holds very strongly as a French value. It hasn’t hindered but helped my business. It has helped me live my dream on both a personal level and professional level and I have learned so much from both the culture and its people. It’s what brought me here all those years ago, and, if change is on the agenda for France, it’s one thing the French should never change.

by Rebecca Penna

 

Having spent the first twenty years of her life in the UK, Rebecca has gone on to spend the majority of her career in France where she settled in the early 1990s after graduating from Sussex University.

With an Anglo-European upbringing she has accumulated many years of personal and professional intercultural experience, particularly in service related industries and always in multicultural environments. She has also used this experience elsewhere in the retail and tourist industries both in the UK and in France. 

Rebecca spent over ten years working for the British Embassy and UK Trade & Investment (the UK's international trade department), combining diplomacy and international business, two very distinct environments relevant to her work today. She occupied a number of Consular and Commercial positions to later become Vice-Consul (Commercial). 

In 2007 she decided to create her own company and naturally moved into the field of cultural diversity where today she enjoys designing and delivering tailor-made training programmes and events (in French and English) in cross-cultural communication, managing diverse teams and working effectively across cultures.

See www.refervescence.com

Panama – a Country in Transition

Whoever has been fortunate enough to transit the Panama Canal by ship, has been part of a unique experience. In less than 10 hours you have crossed the American continent from coast to coast. And you have witnessed an engineering feat that counts as one the Wonders of the World. Many cruise ships enter the Panama Canal only to turn around halfway and go back the same way. Just to give their passengers the excitement of going through the locks and to be able to say: I have been into the Panama Canal. Most people know that the canal is situated somewhere in Central America. And that it literally splits the Americas in half. But as for the rest of Panama, its inhabitants and its culture, this is a black hole for most of the world.

Even for me, a Dutchman born in Colombia, married to a Colombian woman and with a profound interest for the Latin American region, Panama was quite unknown to me. I knew about the Panama Canal and knew where to find it on the globe, but that was about it. Until I was sent to Panama to lead an HR project in Latin America. I had visited Colombia many times over the past decades which made me realize why my youth in Colombia was such a happy one. I had fallen in love with the country, its people and the warm and human culture. Somehow I expected Panama to be about the same, perhaps with a more ‘costeña’ (coastal) touch. How wrong I was.

In the late 19th century Panama was a province of Colombia. In that era the United States realized that a canal through Central America would save their Navy a lot of time to get from the East Coast to the West Coast and vice versa. They examined the possibilities of digging a canal through Nicaragua or Panama. In 1902 they chose for the Panama option and started negotiations with Colombia to obtain a concession to construct the canal, since Panama was a province of Colombia at that time. Colombia was unwilling to cooperate and the US turned to support a slumbering uprising that was taking place in Panama. Since the jungle between Colombia and Panama (The Darien) is impassable for vehicles, Colombia was forced to send its troops by ship to Panama to suppress the uprising. But the US had sent gunboats to Panama to prevent the Colombian troops getting there, a perfect example of ‘gunboat policy’. Once Panama gained its independence, in 1903, the United States quickly expanded its influence over the new Panamanian government and obtained a concession to build the Panama Canal and subsequently an eternal lease to operate it.

After World War II, U.S. control of the canal and the Canal Zone surrounding it became controversial. Many Panamanians felt that the Canal Zone rightfully belonged to Panama; student protests were met by the fencing-in of the Canal zone and an increased military presence. Unrest culminated in riots in 1964, when approximately 20 Panamanians and 4 U.S. soldiers were killed. A decade later, negotiations toward a settlement began and resulted in the Torrijos-Carter Treaties. This started the process of granting the Panamanians free control of the canal and in 1999 the Panama Canal Authority (ACP) assumed command of the waterway.

The Panama Canal is nowadays one of the main sources of income for Panama. It generates an estimated revenue of $2 billion per year. The Panamanian economy is among the fastest growing and best managed in Latin America. Because of its key geographic location, the economy is mainly based on a well-developed service sector heavily weighted towards banking, commerce, tourism, and trade. In 2011 Panama had an unemployment rate of 2.7%. The handover of the Canal and military installations by the United States has also given rise to large construction projects. The skyline of Panama City has changed considerably over the past decade and rivals that of Miami. The city is bursting with big and luxurious shopping malls and new ones are opened every year.

Because of its unique geographic location and the booming economy, many international organizations have opened, and are still opening, offices in Panama. Also the expansion of the canal, a $5 billion project over the next 5 years, is attracting an international workforce. Panama is known to be one of the safest countries in the region and has a wide variety of excellent international schools. Besides the international organizations, a lot of individuals are drawn to Panama too in search of a better future. Not only people from Latin American countries such as Colombia, Venezuela, Costa Rica and Nicaragua, but also many Chinese, Indians, Arabs and, recently, Spaniards have come to Panama to try their luck . All these expats and immigrants are dealing with the challenge of living and working together with the Panamanians.

Why is living in Panama a challenge for foreigners? One of the reasons is that the nature of the Panamanians is a complex one. The Panamanian people stem from a mix of native Indians, conquistadores, blacks, Chinese, French, Americans, Arabs, Jews and a variety of other (mostly European) nationalities. Despite its strategic geographical location and natural wealth, Panama has never been a rich country until the beginning of this millennium. It has frequently suffered from incompetent and sometimes corrupt governments, military coups and indignation over the fact that the Americans had lured the country into a treaty over the Canal that was extremely unfavourable and unfair towards Panama. This makes the Panamanians still resent American exploitation and power, and have developed a strong national and personal honour. It is quite typical for Panamanians to say one thing and do another. They will change their course of action according to changing circumstances. All these things make it difficult for foreigners to adapt to living in Panama.

But now that there is money, economic growth and a lot of foreigners coming to Panama, Panamanians realize that they as well have to start dealing with these new circumstances. That is, if they want to move forwards and keep developing as they have been doing over the last decade. Because they still display features that are hard to deal with for Anglo-Saxons, Northern Europeans and some Asians, such as poor finishing power, reliance on paternalism, low productivity, weakness on accountability, poor sense of time, schedules, agenda and a flexible attitude to truth. On the other hand there are many positive aspects of dealing with Panamanians: they are loyal (if properly motivated), they cultivate relationships and believe in the value of friendship, they desire to please others, obey rules (if monitored) and defend your interests once you have gained their loyalty.

Managers in Panama often struggle to create successful multicultural teams. There is a lot of complaining about the poor Panamanian work ethics (in the eyes of the foreigners) as well as about the unwillingness or inability of foreigners to adapt to living and working in Panama (in the eye of the Panamanians). To overcome these differences, there are 5 simple rules of building winning multicultural teams:

1. Understand very clearly who you are
2. State objectives and roles very clearly
3. Define them in a way which means something to everyone
4. Use diversity as an asset
5. Have fun!

Often I see foreign management struggling to get to grips with Panamanian employees, because they expect them to be something that is not entirely clear to them. These (international) companies fail to make clear who they are, what they stand for and what their core values are. Once they have done this, they should state clearly what their objectives and roles are. Panamanian culture is typically high context. If you are not very clear about what you mean, Panamanians will give your words a meaning that goes with their context, not necessarily yours. And be sure to define your roles and objectives in a way that means something to them. Typical British understatement or coded speech, for instance, is not understood by Panamanians. And since international companies operating in Panama have to deal with Panamanian customers, suppliers and authorities (sometimes more frequently than they would wish), why not have Panamanian employees whose loyalty you have gained to deal with their fellow countrymen? These employees can provide the necessary leverage the country needs to transit from a quite passive attitude and inward perspective, to a more pro-active and international orientation. At the same time especially western foreigners have to let go of some of their typical linear-active way of thinking and acting and give in to a more multi-active attitude, where family, relationships and feelings are more important, and time and agendas not as much.

Mahatma Gandhi said: “No culture can live, if it attempts to be exclusive”. If Panama wants to reach its full potential given by its strategic geographical location, its economic outlook and multicultural diversity, it will have to strive for inclusiveness, open up to international influences and start building a 'canal' to connect the best of both worlds.

by Maarten Stal

 

Maarten Stal is a Dutchman living in Panama where he owner of People in Companies, specialized in HR Management and Cross Cultural Communication. He is licensed partner of Richard Lewis Communications Ltd. for the Central American and Caribbean region. Born in Colombia as child of expats, he always had a profound interest in diverse cultures. After spending his military service as a naval officer and graduating from law school in Amsterdam, Maarten went for half a year to Colombia to go back to his roots. There he met his Colombian wife. Back in The Netherlands he held several HR positions in a variety of Dutch and international companies. In 2011 he was sent by an international company with his family to Panama as HR Manager to lead a project to analyse and improve HR in the Latin American region. After the project was finished, Maarten decided to stay in Panama where he saw many opportunities for International HR Management and Cross Cultural Communication. Currently he is working with World Vision International, a relief, development and advocacy organization dedicated to working with children, as HR Consultant on a variety of restructuring projects throughout Latin America.

 

Accidental Diplomacy: Australian-Japanese Relations

Disasters create strange bedfellows. What good could anyone imagine would come from the horrors of the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear leak that hit the Japanese coast last year? Let me suggest one, a profound one – Japan for the first time since WWII felt cared for by foreigners. Foreigners, the “barbarians” of Perry’s black ships, the crazy, arrogant, unfathomable gaijins who had turned up in their thousands to get a bit of the action when Japan was in bubble economy mode.

Australia has been a major trading partner of Japan since WWII, exporting raw materials and getting them back in the form of cars, trucks, computers, anything. On the softer side Australia has also been seduced by wide-eyed anime characters like Astroboy, introduced business cards into its business etiquette and sushi, sashimi and tempura have become aussie standards. But where was the love? This was pure business and the usual cultural flow-on that always accompanies high levels of trade between countries.

Immediately after WWII Japan was single minded in rebuilding domestically, protecting itself against a China that was not only its traditional enemy but now communist and still expansionist. It was deep in the throws of American occupation and needing to find a dignified and profitable relationship with its victors, which included Australia. An Australia that had come surprisingly close to invasion with bombing attacks on its northern city of Darwin which rivaled the attack on Pearl Harbour for sheer quantity of bombs; the sinking of a ferry in Sydney Harbor with considerable loss of life by a squadron of mini subs; vicious and deadly encounters in Singapore and Papua New Guinea..

This very raw period presented complex and deep feelings on both sides of the Australian-Japan relationship, which prior to WWII, had been excellent. Remember we were on the same side in WWI.

A fact not generally known is that Australia was very keen on punishing the Japanese through the war crimes trials and clamoured successfully to have their judges appointed to the tribunals. The Japanese saw Australia simply as the victor seeking revenge through the tribunals and Australia saw the Japanese as still very much a cruel and inhuman enemy.  Culturally however there is a lot of evidence of the Japanese adopting what they believed to be western  (American) ways and dropping some of theirs. The process of omiai (arranged marriage) for instance, went into decline after the war. They embraced US ideas of capitalism and some management theory although they were in the end very Japanese in application.

When the Japanese started to see the rewards of their hard won reconstruction they became less enamored with western (American) culture and management methods and economic models. At times Japan even expressed this much to everyone’s embarrassment. For instance, a Minister of the Tanaka government in the mid 70s, flush with Japan’s economic success, jeeringly told the Americans, whose economy was languishing, that they didn’t know how to run their country. They had moved from obsequious defeat to the hubris of economic and ipso facto cultural superiority. The Japanese felt they had the right combination of government involvement in private enterprise through organisations such as the all powerful MITI, appropriate control of workers’ unions and a united population happy to be part of the post war miracle.

At the same time the West was starting to quote, or misquote, Japan as “the way to go “ regarding manufacturing methods, union control, “jobs for life”, the value and rewards of having a compliant society depending on who you were and what point you were trying to make. The tide had turned for both the Japanese and us Westerners. The not so funny joke of “who really won the war?” was extant when describing the Japanese’s recovery and the languishing of our economies.

Underlying all this change and ambiguity in the relationship was a raging commodities/manufactured goods trade between Australia and Japan; they needed each other profoundly.

Then came 1990, the bubble burst and has never been re-blown. Suddenly, the hubris that had started to characterize Japanese relations with foreigners was disappearing, rather there was a return to an embarrassed stance of a nation that was meant to be poor. Indeed, one of the best selling books of the era in Japan extolled the traditional virtues of poverty.

In a way we have come full circle with Australia and its main western ally, America, wondering, along with Japan, what to do with China. There is pressure for Japan to drop its pacifist position and convert its “Self Defense Force” into something more assertive. An interesting bit of byplay on this theme was the role Australian troops played in Iraq as protectors of the “strictly defensive”, Japanese.

The relationship appeared to have moved from one of hatred and distrust to something more ambiguous based on mutual benefit.

The recent tsunami revealed the new closer human aspect of the relationship in two ways:

One: a group of Australian haiku and tanka poets put together a collection of their poems that offered sympathy and support. This was sent to various groups and individuals. A common theme in the response was that the Japanese felt, for the first time since WWII, that non Japanese actually cared for them. To quote one Japanese Law Professor:

We had a lot of sympathy and condolences from the world this time as well, which might be the first time, in the past 60 years, to know we Japanese are liked by so many people in the world.

Two: With typical love of language the Japanese  coined a word to describe gaijins (foreigners) who fled Japan after the tsunami - it was “gojins”. This is not just amusing but suggests that the Japanese feel more part of the world and other people. There is a suggestion here that we foreigners are really one of them and should join them in this tragedy, not flee.

A very similar sense of redemption and oneness occurred under much lighter circumstances for Germany when they hosted the FIFA world cup in 2006. For the first time since WWII they publicly expressed an acceptable patriotism, which was seen as simply national pride not threatening jingoism. This was important to post war generations who had been brought up on a diet of lectures at home, in school and society in general not to publicly express national pride or indulge in triumphalism in victory. Like the Japanese they felt that for the first time in 60 years their neighbours had put the past behind them and normal relations had resumed. In the case of Japan; that normal relations had begun.

by Philip Porter

It could never happen in Norway

But it did. Norway is still in shock after the events of Friday 22 July 2011 - a date that will forever be remembered as a turning point in Norwegian history.

At 3:30 in the afternoon, Norway, with its nearly 5 million inhabitants, experienced its first terrorist attack. A car bomb exploded in the street outside the main government buildings in the centre of Oslo. The bomb was so big and the blast so powerful that it could be heard far outside the city. It destroyed nearby buildings and smashed hundreds of windows throughout the capital.

News about the explosion contained further information about a possible shooting on Utøya. There was some confusion to begin with as to whether the two episodes were related and at first the shooting was thought to be fireworks.

As the day wore on, a shocked Norwegian public tried to make sense of what was happening. There had indeed been shooting on Utøya and many had been killed. Utøya (literally “the outside island”) is about two hours drive from Oslo and is well known as the venue for the Labour Party's yearly summer youth camp.

Three hours after the explosion, Oslo was empty of all but police cars, ambulances, commando trucks and fire engines. With typical Norwegian efficiency a central command was immediately established on the largest town square. The sound of sirens continued throughout the evening and night, and the media confirmed that a man had been arrested on Utøya and charged for both crimes.

A native Norwegian man in his thirties admitted responsibility for the home-made bomb and for the massacre on Utøya. A right-wing extremist with strong anti-Islamic views, he blames the Norwegian Labour Party for allowing the immigration of Muslims to Norway and turning Norway into the multicultural society it is today. The attacks were aimed at destroying the Labour Party and killing its new recruits on Utøya.

Numbers of dead and injured were expected to increase during the night as rescue teams continued to search the government buildings and the island. Thankfully these were adjusted down the next day, but they were horrific. 8 people had been killed in the government buildings and 69, the youngest 14 years old, had been shot and killed on Utøya.

Oslo was a silent, mourning city on Saturday. Television stations sent continuous updates showing pictures taken immediately after the bomb exploded. Nearly all the shops were shut and the task of assessing the damage had begun. The normally busy city centre was empty and most of central Oslo had been fenced off as there was speculation about further undetonated bombs.

Ever the pragmatists, the Norwegians discussed positive aspects. For example, the government “high-rise building” or “Høyblokken” built in 1958 could, after all, be salvaged. The bomb had done extensive damage but the foundations were sound. Also, the majority of those who would normally be working in these buildings were on holiday - July is the main holiday month. In addition, the car containing the bomb had been parked over the extensive underground passages which connect the government buildings and this helped to absorb some of the blast.

By Monday morning carpenters and renovation teams had replaced broken windows with weatherboards and removed all the broken glass from the streets. They had been working all weekend - an amazing feat.

The first flowers and candles were already being placed outside the Cathedral in Oslo and as the days went by they filled more and more of the area around the church. Groups stood silently looking at the sea of flowers, many crying openly. This happened in towns all around the country. Very different Norwegians from the rather private people they are known to be. This somewhat Catholic tradition for showing public sorrow started when King Olav V died in January 1991 when the snow outside the Royal Palace was covered by candles and flowers.

Strangely, Norwegian flags were missing from the floral tributes. Norwegians are proud of their flag and exhibit a friendly and good-natured nationalism. The sorrow shown after the massacre was personal and the sense of bereavement transcended nationality.

This could be seen in the rose procession. 200,000 people each carrying a rose filled the streets of Oslo to express their support for a society that condemned terrorism, whoever was responsible. Norway has always defended her open society. Locked doors with codes and entrance cards are relatively new here. However, Norwegians are sceptical in spite of promises from the Prime Minister that there will be more openness in the future.

There has been much soul-searching in the aftermath of the terror. As would be expected of a society concerned with details and punctuality, the rescue operation on Utøya has been studied minute for minute. Could the police have been more efficient? Could more lives have been saved? What if, what if?

An immigrant was stopped in the street by reporters and asked for his comments. His reply was “My first thought when I heard about the bomb was 'I hope it is not one of ours' ”.

This is a sentiment that has been expressed by many Norwegians. They are thankful that the perpetrator was a so-called native. Norway struggles to integrate its immigrants like so many other nations and had one of them been responsible, this wonderful country would have looked very different today.

Flowers are still being laid outside the Cathedral and there are always roses on the fences around the government buildings. The heavy silence over Oslo has now lifted and voices and laughter can be heard again in the streets but it is going to take a very long time to get back to normal - whatever “normal” will mean in the future.

by Veronica Biong

The Glory that was Greece

The Greeks may currently owe us a lot; but our debt to the Greeks is immeasurable.

Small comfort to a country for which – according to Jeff Randall in a recent article in The Daily Telegraph – ‘there is no deus ex machina. The tragic dénouement will involve its default or withdrawal from the single currency, perhaps both.’

The deus ex machina, in classical drama, was the god who descended from the stage machinery, in order to intervene in human affairs and the phrase is generally used to mean a positive intervention, or rescue of the hero.

Randall’s whole article casts what is happening in Greece as a tragedy – which, of course, they invented, along with the foundations for Western philosophy, literature, mathematics, science, art, architecture etc. Greek intellectual achievements have been unparalleled in the history of the Western world, and they know it.

They also feel that we often fail to respect the source of our heritage enough. So the present humiliation must be all the more bitter for a justifiably proud people.

Starting with Minoan Crete, where there was evidence of settlement in 128,000 BC, real signs of civilization from 5,000 BC, and reaching a pinnacle with the city states of Sparta and Athens – which established the basis for Western civilization and liberal democracies – Greece really was the cradle of Europe.

No wonder that the Greek ideal inspired the Romantics – so much so that Lord Byron, the British poet, died (admittedly of a fever) fighting for Greek independence from the Ottoman Empire, into which it had been absorbed for hundreds of years. Independence was finally achieved in 1832 with the Treaty of Constantinople.

Some of the most famous lines written about Greece are in fact Byron’s:

‘The mountains look on Marathon/And Marathon looks on the sea/And musing there an hour alone/I dream’d that Greece might yet be free.’

Modern Greeks tend to see themselves as culturally-aware, eloquent, sophisticated Europeans, experienced in social and commercial matters, with strong intellectual powers, intuition and a sense of artistry.

Key values are reason, freedom, thrift (paradoxically in the current circumstances!), a love of the sea, theatre, rationalism, debate, close family ties, a talent for business (especially small entrepreneurism), democracy, and architecture.

They are a multi-active, dialogue-oriented culture, very tactile, putting lively human interaction above clock-time, and having been scientifically proven to have the strongest eye contact in Europe. Their style of communication tends to be verbose, theatrical and intense.

Yet their intellectual heritage has given them a strong rationalism to counter the emotion, rather like the French.

To deal with them effectively in business, you should really read up something on their illustrious history as the longer-term historical perspective is important for them and a source of great pride.

Other advice:

• Avoid discussion of Greece’s decline, historical and current
• Don’t mention the problems with Cyprus
• Avoid the topics of Serbia, Kosovo, Albania and Macedonia
• Don’t praise the Turks too much
• Use some Greek
• Be prepared for long, roundabout discussion
• Let them get their emotions off their chest – they can use emotion as a weapon, so remain calm yet show compassion
• Be aware of differences in body language – a backward nod of the head means ‘no’. A tilt of the head to either side means ‘yes’
• Keep strong eye contact
• Identify the boss and address him or her directly. The boss can be extremely tough, in a paternalistic way, especially in more traditional businesses like shipping. Even nowadays, he may motivate his senior team by lining them up and slapping their faces to show them who is boss!
• Be flexible – they may well be flexible on agreements, so be prepared for them to propose modifications
• Be generous and friendly, but remain tough enough
• Even if they are in a weak position, preserve their dignity at all times
• Socialise (even till the late hours) and invest time in relationships
• Be aware they may try to charm you, so try to use your own charisma too
• Bow to their experience
• Understand that, in the end, they are pragmatic
• Above all, be aware of their shrewdness. It is probably their key defining characteristic. It is no coincidence that Odysseus, the best-known hero in Greek literature was primarily characterised for his cunning. It was he, after all, who came up with the idea of the Trojan Horse.

We began by referring to the current Greek tragedy, but does the word describe the current situation in the truest sense of the word? For instance, however sad it is, an accident is not a tragedy. A tragedy is a fall, usually ending in death, brought about by a fatal flaw in character of an otherwise great hero.

There is no doubt that Greece is a heroic nation, based on its intellectual achievements, but do those achievements contain a fatal flaw?

Probably the greatest philosophical contribution the Greeks made to the world was the idea that it is rational to strive for an ideal – whether that is at a personal or political level. The question then arises, as to what that ideal should be. At a political level, Plato’s Republic tries to build a picture of the ideal state, governed not as a democracy – maybe surprisingly – but by the ‘guardians’, who, to simplify it grossly, ‘know best.’

This idea of a Utopia has probably been the root cause of all the various ‘-isms’ that have eventually had to give way to more pragmatic forms of government.

Could it be that the European Union, with its bold single currency experiment, has pushed the ideal of an economically united Europe too far too soon?

If so, how ironic and how truly tragic, that Greece – the source of the idealism that made Europe great, and the concept of the EU possible – should be the first EU member state to bear the brunt of the harsh realities of real politik. The gods above Olympus must be shaking their heads at human hubris, or maybe giving a backward nod or two.

by Michael Gates

The English – in a class of their own

Cecily:  When I see a spade, I call it a spade.

Gwendolen:  I am glad to say I have never seen a spade. It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different.

Oscar Wilde – The Importance of Being Earnest

It is fitting that one of the best-known examples of the English class system in action in literature should have been written by an Irishman.

For the English, ‘class’ is what Richard D. Lewis describes as a ‘cultural black hole’: an aspect of a culture so powerful that it sucks everything else in. The problem is that when you are in a black hole, it is hard to see clearly what is going on around you. An outsider may have a clearer perspective.

The current argument about social mobility that recently dominated the headlines in the UK goes to the heart of an inescapable part of understanding the English that is complex, and one of the biggest sources of both our angst and our humour.

When Nick Clegg, the Deputy Prime Minister, declared that access to the most selective universities is too restricted to those from the most privileged backgrounds, and that internships at companies would in future have to be based on ‘what you know rather than who you know’, the reaction was fast and furious. One of the most cutting comments was from Charles Moore, former editor of The Daily Telegraph. He remarked that Clegg ought to have known that the phrase should have been ‘whom you know.’ Clegg’s Dutch mother may have given him a certain scepticism about class segregation, but woe betide anyone who tries to do something logical about it. It is beyond logic.

One fatal error is to assume that class is based on wealth. That may be the case in the USA, but in England the self-made man or woman can never really escape his or her roots. And in many cases may not want to. Though class may still be an irritant. The richest person I know – a multi-, multi-millionaire by his mid-thirties – told me that his working-class background means that there are still people who ‘cut him dead’ socially. And I will never forget my first seminar at Oxford University, when a class-mate (in more ways than one) from Lancashire was asked to read out his brilliant essay on the Victorian poets Tennyson and Browning. One of the girls suddenly walked out and never came back. Afterwards she told us she ‘had to go and vomit, as she couldn’t stand listening to that Northern, working-class accent.’

Accents, and the words you use, are the first indicator of class. Even the way the word ‘class’ is pronounced is an immediate give-away. A short ‘a’ rather than a long one, and you are immediately relegated to the lower rankings.  Use the word ‘toilet’ rather than ‘lavatory’ or ‘loo’, as Kate Middleton’s mother apparently did, and you could nearly cost your daughter the throne.

This language question is a source of great anxiety to politicians. Harold Wilson, former Labour Prime Minister, was famous for his strong Yorkshire accent and his cunning. However, as a student and later teacher of politics at Oxford, he assumed a clipped upper middle-class pronunciation. You can’t blame him. At that time, he would have had difficulty getting his students to trust his intellect otherwise. But on moving into politics, he reverted to his Yorkshire vowels. There is no way Labour’s traditional voters would have trusted his beliefs if he hadn’t. I am sure that David Cameron’s ‘posh’ voice, and appearance (a small chin is considered a sign of the upper classes in England) are at least partly to blame for the Conservative Party’s poor showing in the North of England, resulting in a Coalition Government.

A sort of reverse snobbery has emerged in the past 20 years or so, with some politicians – no names mentioned – deliberately making their naturally polished tones sound more like the man on the street, especially the streets of Essex: a county whose accent has become synonymous with the median voter.

Tony Blair also got into hot water for trying to play to all classes in other ways. He was ridiculed for two consecutive interviews where he was asked what his favourite food was.  In his Sedgefield constituency (a traditional mining community in the North East of England), he answered ‘fish and chips’ and in a trendy area of London ‘pasta and sun-dried tomatoes’.

Observing which foods people eat is a sure-fire indicator of class. Fish and chips, sausages (bangers) and mashed potatoes, frozen food, etc. for the working-class; foreign food – especially Italian – for the middle-class, and bangers and mash and English ‘nursery food’ for the upper-class.

Which brings me to my final point that the working-class and upper-class tend to have far more in common with each other, as D.H. Lawrence frequently observed, than either of them does with the middle class.

As well as a preference for plain, English food, the working-class and upper-class tend to have similar interests in sports (rugby, horse-racing, sports involving dogs); cars (tend to be older, and they are not so fussy about keeping them clean) and in many other areas beyond the scope of this blog, but described well in social anthropologist Kate Fox’s book ‘Watching the English’.

Above all, both working and upper-classes seem to be easier in their own skins than the middle-classes, who tend to be pre-occupied with what others think about them. Though the middle-class is essential to progress and, as Aristotle recognised, the basis of a successful society:

‘The most perfect political community must be amongst those who are in the middle rank, and those states are best instituted wherein these are a larger and more respectable part, if possible, than both the other; or, if that cannot be, at least than either of them separate.’

If you are not English, you have the luxury of by-passing the class issue in your dealings with us. You are not part of a game which is even more complicated than cricket. Yet to understand us, it is still relevant and important to get beneath the surface of this English obsession with where people are from and whom they know, not just what they know. But please do it in secret, and never ever mention it!

I am his Highness’ dog at Kew; pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?

Alexander Pope (1688-1744) English poet and satirist

by Michael Gates

Long before the No Fly Zone, the US hit Gaddafiland hard

‘Why consult the crystal ball when you can read the book?’ – Aneurin Bevan

The Anglo-French led air incursion over Libya is being presented in Europe as unprecedented. It isn’t. 15 April 2011 marks the 25th anniversary of the American attack on Tripoli and Benghazi by a force of eighteen F‐111 bombers and twenty-eight KC10 and KC135 tankers from airbases in and around what then was the Suffolk constituency I represented in the British Parliament. The raid was a success in so far as it convinced Muammar Gaddafi to give up his reach for nuclear weapons and to reduce his support for terrorist bombing and assignations in Britain and the murder of Americans in the Middle East and Europe. The complex military details and subsequent political fallout have never been fully revealed but (studied in depth by a subsequent generation of USAF pilots and commanders) undoubtedly played a part in making the Pentagon reluctant to get involved in a contemporary No Fly Zone.

I was closely involved in the preparations for and political fallout from Operation El Dorado Canyon as the US attack was codenamed. Like the British and French air crews overflying Libya today, the Americans were under strict order to ‘avoid collateral damage’ – not to kill or injure civilians. That was why the 48th tactical air wing at Lakenheath in England was tasked to carry out the attack. Only its 493 squadron could deliver the air to surface television guided glide bomb (GBU‐15s) that could penetrate the Libyan defences and carefully selected military targets without inflicting casualties on the population of surrounding buildings.

The targets selected were Gaddafi’s own headquarters, located in a bunker under the Bab Al Azziziyeh barracks in the diplomatic sector of Tripoli and the Libyan Air Force’s facilities at Tripoli International Airport, where large numbers of Soviet‐supplied Ilyushin transports were stationed. A secondary target was the Sidi Bilal naval centre where, under Soviet supervision, the Libyans were training underwater demolition teams some of whom were believed to have taken part in the laying mines in the Red Sea that damaged ships transiting the Suez Canal.

On Tuesday 9 April President Reagan got Margaret Thatcher’s approval for the British bases to be used. The orders already had been typed by a senior clerk in the Pentagon, but no date and time was shown for commencement of the attack. The Secretary of the Air Force inserted these in long hand and moved them up 24 hours to ensure against leaks that might alert the Libyans. A four‐star general then carried the orders across the Atlantic by hand to Major General McInerney, Commander of the Third Air Force in Suffolk.

Only then did Tom McInerney learn that France and Spain had refused to allow US flights across their territory. This would add up to 2,400 miles and six more hours of flying time for his crews to reach Libya and return. The F‐111s must therefore launch from England several hours earlier, thus increasing the risk of the Libyans being tipped off in advance by Soviet reconnaissance aircraft. Because of the greater distance, many more air refuellings would also be needed on both the outward and return legs of the mission.

Each of the F‐111s regardless of weather or any other contingency had to rendezvous with a tanker, on four separate occasions at exactly the right place, the right height and the right time – without using their radios (for fear of the Libyans overhearing them).

My diary records how the mission unfolded:

12.36 pm: Twenty four khaki and brown camouflaged F‐111s began taking off from Lakenheath. Six of these aircraft were spares, reserves to fill any gaps that might arise because of malfunctions among the eighteen aircraft tasked to make the strike.

12.50 pm: Five other US aircraft flew out of RAF Upper Heyford in Oxfordshire. Specially equipped with state of the art electronics. Their task was to put the Libyans’ radars out of action.

6.55 pm: The radar jammers cross into Africa, heading south into the Sahara, then wheeling north. They made their final run into Tripoli – not from the Mediterranean as might have been expected, but from the south across the desert. Their radar‐suppression worked. Though the Libyans loosed off more and denser anti‐aircraft missile fire than the Americans had experienced in Vietnam, virtually the whole of the attack force came through unscathed.

7.00 pm: Complete tactical surprise is achieved. Not a single alarm was signalled in Tripoli. Not one Libyan fighter aircraft took off as the main F‐111 strike force roared in at low level from the Mediterranean. Eight bombed the Sidi Bilal naval training area; nine others aligned themselves on Gaddafi’s command post in Al Azzizyah.

In the event, only five of these aircraft pressed home their attack. The pilots of the other four aborted their attacks to guarantee that they stayed within the constraints laid down by the President – avoid collateral damage. One attacking aircraft released its bomb prematurely. This almost certainly was responsible for most of the 49 Libyans, including Gaddafi’s 10 year old adopted daughter, who were killed.

8.14 pm: Heading home through the Straits of Gibraltar to avoid flying over Spain and France, the Lakenheath F‐111s rendezvous with their first return leg tankers over the Atlantic west of Gibraltar.

3.10 am Tuesday 15 April: Landing at Lakenheath, some of the pilots are so stiff after 14 hours cramped up in their narrow cockpits that they have to be bodily lifted out of their seats.

How effective was the raid?

I subsequently discussed this with Gaddafi when he invited me to Libya in my capacity as National Chairman of the World Affairs Council of America. He received me at the rebuilt Habbinayah Barracks in Tripoli from which he and his son, Saif, would later direct the counter attack against the rebels (March 2011). We sat outside the goatskin tent that accompanied him to New York when he subsequently addressed the United Nations (and made a fool of himself with a 90 minute harangue that led scores of delegates to walk out!).

I began the conversation with Libya’s support for terrorism citing the murders of Libyan exiles in Britain, his supplying of weapons and cash to the IRA and the destruction of Flight 103, killing 258 US passengers and 11 Scots in the village of Lockerbie.

Gaddafi: “We Libyans did not kill them. But Libya has offered to pay large sums to the victims.” His eyes flashed as he went on: “Is Libya not entitled to compensation for the victims of the American attacks on our children?”

We came to the key issue. Griffiths: “Is Libya trying to build atomic bombs?” Gaddafi: “Why should we? Libya does not need them.”

I pressed him to be more specific, but he danced around the subject. “Who would we use (nuclear weapons) against?” he asked. “Not our Arab neighbours; they are our brothers. Not the Europeans, they are our friends and trade partners; as for the United States, how could we reach America?”

It was at this point that I made what may have been a small contribution to Gaddafi, and therefore Libya’s decision to abandon its reach for nuclear weapons.

Griffiths: “If you make a bomb, Libya will not be safer. You will only make it certain that the United States will come after you again, and next time, Libya could be obliterated.”

Tough talk? Yes it was, and I had no authority whatsoever to say this, only my own judgement of the Bush Administration’s outlook and some experience of speaking frankly to political leaders who knew that I no longer had axes to grind, goods to sell or electors to impress.

Gaddafi made no reply. Though he understood my English, he asked his interpreter to repeat my words in Arabic. Unusually, he then fell silent as I had thanked him for receiving me and left.

*   *   *

President Bush later made the claim that Gaddafi’s nuclear ambitions ‘crumbled’ in response to America’s use of force against Iraq. That was too simple by half. On the basis of the talk I had with him and my subsequent contacts with Libyans, there were two main reasons why Gaddafi dismantled his underground bomb-making labs and turned over the blueprints to Britain and the US. One was that oddly named air strike – Operation El Dorado Canyon. The other, as one of his confidants told me was that Gaddafi wanted to ‘come in from the cold’; to reopen Libya’s trade links with the US and the EU, allowing the imports of the components needed to revive its limping oil industry: above all to take its turn as a member of the UN Security Council.

For close to a decade, Libya came close to achieving this. International traders and investors poured into Tripoli; western leaders, among them Tony Blair, Nicolas Sarkozy and Hilary Clinton, flew to Tripoli and embraced Muammar Gaddafi. Not until the Arab revolutions brought down the despotic rulers of Tunisia and Egypt in January 2011 did Britain, France and the United States abandon ‘reconciliation’ and reverse their pragmatically benign approach to Gaddafiland.

The Americans involved in today’s No Fly Zone will undoubtedly share with their allies the critical lessons learnt from Operation El Dorado Canyon.

One is that Libya’s radars and air defence missile batteries must be put out of action ‐ in advance. Another is that no matter how carefully the pilots may try to avoid ‘collateral damage,’ civilian casualties are inevitable, not least because the enforcers have no alternative but to strafe Gaddafi’s tanks if they advance on Benghazi and shoot down any of his warplanes and helicopters that may take off. These are acts of war. David Cameron was talking nonsense when, in one breath he pledged UK participation in a No Fly Zone, while declaring in the next “we will not go to war”.

A third lesson is that while armed intervention may save the revolutionaries from being crushed and at first may be welcomed by many, though by no means all the Arab states, the longer term response is more uncertain. Whatever its merits in human rights’ terms, the No Fly Zone could yet rekindle a new version of the hostility to the West that followed Operation El Dorado Canyon.

by Sir Eldon Griffiths

 

Egypt: Discontents of modernity, promise of antiquity

When Ibn Khaldun, the 14^th-century polymath and forefather of modern-day social sciences, arrived in Cairo after spending 50 years in Andalusia and Maghreb, he described the city as “metropolis of the world, garden of the universe, meeting place of nations, ant-hill of peoples, high place of Islam, seat of power” (Albert Hourani: A History of the Arab Peoples). He also remarked that he who has not seen Egypt could never understand the power of Islam.

Such was the centrality accorded to Egypt by the Arabo-Islamic world. Even today, many historians argue that the true glory of Cairo is to be found in its medieval Islamic architecture which came to being on the back of the prosperity produced by the Ummayad, Ayyubid and Mameluk dynasties. Some of the wealthiest families in Muslim countries that are as far removed from Egypt as Malaysia and Indonesia continue to send their scions to study at Cairo’s ancient Al-Azhar university and other schools. Al-Azhar’s Moorish-inspired campus has held classes since 970 CE and its religious education caters to all four madh’hab or mainstream schools of Sunni jurisprudence. During the current unrest, the large presence of international students in Egypt made headlines as the Malaysian government has gone ahead with a mass evacuation of its nationals from Egypt.

Given that social thought in the Islamic tradition exposes the inherent limitations of man-made as opposed to revealed knowledge, it is not without irony that since the middle of the 20^th century, Egypt has embarked on nearly every–ism described in political science textbooks. Once the old monarchical order was toppled, the country lurched to secularism and militarism followed by pan-Arabism and nationalism. In the past few decades, these have given way to a somewhat Asian-style developmental dictatorship that combines old political instincts with Western economics. To its credit, Egypt has in recent years gained more than a foothold in emerging business sectors such as infocommunications, data services, call centres and outsourcing. Drawn to its respectable tradition of engineering expertise and a young and often multilingual urban population, the likes of Intel have chosen Egypt as one of a handful of their global product definition centres. The government – until recently headed by a former infocomm minister – put its best foot forward, to the extent of making call centre skills an integral part of university curricula. And with its sizable domestic consumer market, the country has billed itself as a logical extension of the up-and-coming BRIC wave of world economic leaders.

These new trends never quite discouraged Western news reports from playing up the physical constraints of providing for a population of eighty-plus million predominantly concentrated in the Nile river delta. In the minds of many social commentators in developing countries, this was yet another example of the West’s “dogma of development”. At present, from either perspective there is no denying that no matter how successful, the outcomes of the recent economic expansion have created opportunities for dozens of thousands rather than millions. Case in point: Flagship companies like Telecom Egypt are headed by exceptionally astute management teams who earned their MBAs and PhDs at the best US and British universities, and know all there is to know about technology migrations and climbing the value chain. Many of their offices are teeming with Western management consultants and development experts. But below this top echelon, there is a reality of hundreds of thousands of employees, most of them breadwinners, who have been on the payroll for decades.  

Prior to the outburst of popular discontent in early 2011, Egypt had for years strived to reconcile its business-friendly, outward-looking face with a repressive government whose brutality has been well documented in global media: for instance, whereas in many other developing countries, blogosphere writings that are critical of the government might earn the author a surprise tax audit, some of Egypt’s bloggers have been dragged out of internet cafes in broad daylight by members of the security services and beaten to death in front of passersby. During my own visit, taking a photo from a downtown bridge has earned me a brisk trip to a nearby interrogation room. Afterwards, when I shared this encounter with other Europeans, they laughed it off as an attempt to collect a bribe; but standing alone in a windowless chamber and surrounded by half a dozen military men felt far from trivial.

Perhaps my friends were right: social hardship and rising prices have created a pervasive if stereotypical bakshish mentality among the crushing majority of local people. On a visit to the stunning Al-Azhar Mosque, a local imam will invite foreign visitors for a guided walkthrough, all the while reciting prayers and bestowing praises on spiritual leaders and martyrs whose fate was linked to these hallowed grounds. Afterwards, he will eagerly and insistently collect cash from each member of the visitors’ group, making it clear that in addition to the amount that goes to the mosque’s upkeep, there is money that is due to him. For a first-time visitor and for many Muslims from other countries, this is a startling sight that will nonetheless follow them everywhere, including Cairo’s holiest Islamic sites that are home to relics of the Prophet’s descendants.  

Similarly, whereas in other Arab societies, haggling is practised as a jovial art form and a facet of local culture, in Egypt it has an air of desperation. It doesn’t hurt to remind oneself that many of the young men loudly peddling their wares and pulling at your sleeve have eight, ten or more unmarried sisters and other dependants back in their village. Granted, true Egyptian hospitality still exists in abundance, but much too often it is to be found among business partners and even government officials as opposed to the creaking and heavy-handed tourism industry.

Faced with intransigent obstacles, for many Egyptians the uncomplicated and glamorous life as captured in local films from the 1950s becomes a past that is nostalgically re-imagined. The fin-de-siècle mansions of Heliopolis still stand as a witness to that era. By contrast, today’s cities are largely a chaotic jumble of shabby apartment blocks and roads where millions of cars wrestle for every inch of space on the carriageway. Over the years, this has given rise to a lifestyle where residents of Cairo eat breakfast they picked up in an “On the Run” cafe at a petrol station, sleep, study, call friends and conduct business inside their vehicles.  

Today’s Egyptian identity is built on such contradictions. During a long car journey through the city one day, I chatted with my local associate, a pious yet outgoing young woman who (unlike many of her more senior colleagues) wore a headscarf, dressed modestly yet very smartly, and spoke flawless English despite never having had the opportunity to travel abroad. Casually, she confessed to spending every last penny of her salary on weekend trips to Citystars, Cairo’s landmark shopping mall. As the car was passing rows upon rows of new housing blocks that spelled the same type of aspiration as her branded clothes and gadgets, I asked if she and her workmates were perhaps sharing one of these apartments while exploring life in the big city. “You see – I am not married,” she explained cheerfully. “And in Egypt, you live with your Mum and Dad till the day you get married.”

Could this clinging to tradition amidst change provide clues to a way out of the current crisis? Predictably, foreign pundits have been talking with disquiet about the rise of so-called Islamist politics as a result of the government’s loss of legitimacy. But contemplating Egypt’s social and economic issues, drawing on the local Islamic tradition may be the only viable way forward, particularly if the emphasis is on social justice and creative local solutions to local problems. There is indeed a rich tradition to draw on: according to historians, a hundred years ago up to an estimated 70% of all commercial land in Egypt was managed through awqaf (plural form of waqf) – charitable and philanthropic endowments. It might not be too far-fetched to trace the roots of the present-day malaise to the secular, military-sponsored shift away from this traditional economic order, coupled with blind faith in physical development – the treadmill of building ever more (housing, roads, schools) yet inevitably falling short. Meanwhile, sheer numbers dictate that a huge role for central government be retained, regardless of its ideological shade: a typical Egyptian civil servant supports a stay-at-home spouse and five or six children. In aggregate, this means that any new government will find itself directly and indirectly feeding half of the country’s total population.

Those that witnessed the ongoing wave of unrest in Cairo have also drawn parallels with the 1989 fall of “real socialism” across central and eastern Europe, a chain of events I had the privilege to participate in back then as a first-year student with a Prague university. With the benefit of hindsight, I can only hope that Egypt will escape the many traps that befall societies in transition and chart its own, meaningful path to post-authoritarian rule. A re-reading of Ibn Khaldun might just be the first step on this arduous journey.

by Martin Králik

Cultural musings from a visit to North Korea

Before going to North Korea (the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea or DPRK) I tried to prepare myself for what I knew would be the biggest culture shock imaginable because it is a country like no other. Would it be a mixture of the culture to be found in South Korea blended with the Soviet Union under Stalin and China under Mao? The simple answer, of course, is “none of the above”, and yet, every so often during a one-week visit, I would be reminded of all three of these comparators.

I had been invited to Pyongyang to teach the United Nations country team there how to become more effective negotiators. Half of my students were expats from a dozen different countries, working for UNICEF, WHO, FAO and a number of other agencies. The other half worked for the same UN agencies, but were North Korean nationals – an elite group who spoke English, were trusted by the regime and who had three jobs: their official UN job, taking on the role of “minder” for UN expats and visitors, and being the eyes and ears of the government within the UN offices.

The thinking of my UN hosts was that it would be good for representatives of the most difficult government with which the international community has to negotiate to be exposed to a negotiation philosophy that emphasizes the gains to be made by putting one’s self in the other person’s shoes and recognizing the interests of both sides in a negotiation. I wasn’t optimistic that we would make much progress!

Arriving at Pyongyang’s Sunan Airport, the first oddity was the customs declaration, which, inter alia, asked if I was carrying any “killing devices” or “exciters”. My laptop was inspected carefully, but my small camera attracted no attention. However, all mobile phones are confiscated and placed in a small pouch, with a receipt being issued for collection on departure. The execution in March 2010 of a North Korean man for using a smuggled mobile phone to call a defector friend in South Korea, is a measure of the sensitivity of communications in North Korea.

The airport has a fairly large and impressive terminal building, but the lack of activity there, with several decrepit Tupolev and Antonev Air Koryo jets sitting ready to provide the airline’s only two daily flights from Pyongyang (to Beijing and Vladivostok) hints of the moribund state of the economy. I was fortunate in that Air China had resumed service from Beijing a week before I travelled, so I was able to avoid the Air Koryo experience.

As my UN car had not shown up to meet me, I looked for a taxi rank, but was stopped from exiting the terminal unaccompanied, and fellow passengers told me that taxis simply didn’t exist. Fortunately, a New Zealand investment banker who lived in Pyongyang (yes, really! At least he will be in on the ground floor if and when investment opportunities open up) was able to call the UN offices where they had thought I was arriving the next day.

When my car finally arrived, I met my 30-something female “minder”, who worked for the UN and who escorted me everywhere and was a participant in the programme I taught. Each time she delivered me to the Hotel Koryo, she made a call from the front desk to tell her controllers where I was, and although she had two children at home, she had a room at my hotel throughout my stay.

Everywhere in Pyongyang there are massive statues and portraits of the founder of the DPRK, Kim Il-sung, and equally impressive murals of revolutionary figures or of him. Even the office of UNICEF has a large oil painting of a kindly Kim Il-sung, surrounded by children, one of whom is wearing his hat. Surprisingly, his son, the current leader, Kim Jong-il, is featured much less prominently, reflecting the concept of Kim Il-sung being the “eternal president, the supreme leader, and the sun of all people” according to the Juche philosophy that he established. It is Kim Il-sung, rather than Kim Jong-il, whose portrait is on the little enamel badges that everyone wears on their lapels.

The personality cult surrounding North Korea’s only two leaders is reminiscent of the adulation of Lenin (and to some extent, Stalin) in the Soviet Union, and Mao in China. But the family dynasty element is different. In some ways the idea of a family being in charge (leaving aside traditional hereditary monarchies) is similar to the chaebol in South Korea – conglomerates of companies owned, controlled and managed by the same family. Ironically, these family industrial empires, closely tied to the political elites of South Korea, have been engines of growth, in contrast to the economic decline of North Korea under its “family leadership”.

Any observations on North Korean culture have to be seen in the context of the omnipresent Juche ideology.  Juche demands absolute loyalty to the Workers Party of Korea and to (currently) Kim Jong-il. It places the ordinary people as the masters of the country’s development, eschews any relationships with the great powers, and emphasises independent thought and self-reliance in both economic and defence terms.

The reality, of course, is that North Korea has never been self-sufficient. Until the collapse of the Soviet Union, it was reliant on aid from Moscow. It has lurched from economic crisis to economic crisis with masses of its people suffering starvation. China has provided tremendous quantities of aid for more than a decade and other countries are providing assistance under the six-party talks framework. North Korea is the second largest recipient of food aid in the world.  All the English language literature in my hotel excoriated American “warmongers”, yet on the day that I arrived in Pyongyang, a team from the United States embarked on talks with the government to provide American food aid.

While it has replaced Marxism-Leninism in North Korea, Juche acknowledges the influence of traditional communist doctrine, although over the past two decades, the military rather than the proletariat or working class, is the main revolutionary force. To the traditional hammer and sickle, symbolizing the factory worker and the farmer, Juche’s icons also include a writing brush for the “Samuwon” class of writers, professors, engineers, and bureaucrats – a departure from the emphasis in other communist nations.

Revolutionary posters all follow the same formula: a farmer, a factory worker, an office worker or engineer, usually carrying a T-square, and a soldier. One is always a woman.

The Juche philosophy controls everyone’s activities and leaves no room for the thought that any ideas emanating from Western or Asian management concepts would have any value. It is uncompromising, and visitors to North Korea are left in no doubt that their hosts are setting the terms of any discussion.

This was a depressing thought as I set out to teach cooperative, interests-based negotiation to 11 North Koreans and 11 foreign UN officials at a hot-springs resort two hours away from Pyongyang.

The resort was reached via an empty eight-lane highway that extended for the first ten miles or so from the capital.  I was told that this also served as a runway and a military access road. Communities through which we passed were clearly very poor, but the rice paddies appeared to be well maintained in this, comparatively visible, part of the country.  The resort itself was surprisingly comfortable and the people running it were considerably friendlier than their counterparts at the hotel in Pyongyang.

Knowing that the North Korean nationals among my students were reporting back to the authorities, I felt a bit self-conscious as I started teaching. Rather like a Western politician whose offhand remarks come home to roost in the pages of the tabloid press, I envisioned myself being grilled by steely faced interrogators, seeking an explanation for the code word, BATNA (Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement, a key element of negotiation strategy) or for clarification of the punch line of a joke I had made. Indeed, the sessions got off to a tense start, with the two groups, whom I had deliberately mixed together in the seating arrangements, regarding each other with suspicion. Early on there was a worrisome moment when I realized that a simulation I had written and for which I was about to hand out roles, referred to something having taken place in Seoul, the very mention of which is taboo. I was quickly able to revise the scenario with the substitution of Bangkok.

To my surprise, I soon found that the North Korean nationals started to catch my eye and smile, asking questions, and enjoying playing roles of people very different from themselves. They cheerfully engaged in negotiations ranging from selling a line of pickles to a Canadian supermarket chain, to being the top civil servant in a finance ministry or his counterpart in the education ministry of a small country, haggling over the latter’s annual budget allocation. After a bit, everyone was laughing a lot, and the inflexibility and hardness that was evident from my minder and most of the others melted away.

There were, of course, constant reminders of where we were. The television offered a steady diet of Kim Jong-il “directing and inspiring” workers at a factory/mine/farm, interspersed with military parades and droning propaganda and martial music. A variation of the latter woke me up each morning both in Pyongyang and at the resort, as recorded music of massed choirs extolled the achievements of Kim Jong-il, the Workers Party of Korea and Juche.

At the end of the two-day workshop, all the North Koreans clamoured to be included in photographs taken with me. It had turned out very differently than I had expected and at the inter-agency meeting (comprising all the UN agencies and foreign ambassadors), which I attended before I left, the expat UN officials reported that this was the first time they had ever experienced such congeniality with their North Korean “colleagues”.

I had no illusions that my teaching had worked some alchemy, but I felt I had learned a bit from living at close quarters with these intelligent and, ultimately, friendly North Koreans. I detected an element of “face” which plays such a big part in Chinese, Japanese and South Korean (where it is called kibun) cultures. At first they didn’t want to make a fool of themselves in front of their expat colleagues or even amongst themselves, but they soon found that much of what I was teaching was making everyone realize the mistakes we all make in decision-making and negotiation, so everyone felt they were in the same boat.

Even though I was with them for a very short time, I also detected elements of guanxi, which underpins successful business relations in China. Guanxi is about mutual dependence in relationships, and reciprocity, key elements of a pragmatic approach to negotiation. In the role-plays we conducted, everyone realized that they depended on others and relationships are very important. This sense of having built a relationship came across very noticeably with my minder, who had been very cold and authoritarian when she met me at the airport the first evening, but who opened up and talked about her hopes and aspirations for her children in a very natural way towards the end of my visit, while remaining firmly focused on the infallibility of Kim Il-sung and professing her love of the very strange country in which she lived.

As someone who teaches cooperative, give and take, and comparative advantage negotiations, was I able to draw any lessons from the implacable hard-nosed approach that the North Korean government displays in international arena?

There was one very compelling lesson from the negotiations between the US food aid delegation and the North Koreans that were underway when I arrived. The Americans had come woefully ill-prepared and insisted on starting the negotiations right away while they were still under the influence of jetlag. They did not, for instance, know which provinces were closed to NGOs, which would be used to distribute the aid, surely an essential piece of homework. In contrast, the North Koreans knew everything about the issues in play and the constraints to which the American team was subject. They were also very happy to let the Americans keep negotiating until 2:00 AM when they were exhausted and no longer on top of their arguments. Thorough preparation and then easing slowly into the negotiations are wise approaches for anyone to embrace.

When I took off on my Air China Boeing 737 (symbolizing, perhaps, the pragmatic Chinese approach of engagement with the West), and flew back to Beijing, which, in contrast seemed such a bustling, open and tolerant place, I reflected on the sad lot of the North Korean people, starving, imprisoned, and cut off from most of the world. I felt depressed when I recalled that a couple of senior UN officials had told me that they had no idea who was in charge in North Korea – certainly not Kim Jong-il, they said. As I write, there is evidently a power struggle between the dynasty represented by Kim Jong-il’s youngest son, Kim Jong-un, and other forces in this secretive state. 

Who knows how long it will take for things to change in North Korea and whether change can come about peaceably. In China, the excesses of the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution created an environment where big changes, brought about by Deng Xiaoping through, in part, opening up to the rest of the world, were the only way forward. Maybe the sheer desperation of a failed state will lead to change. Maybe the little green shoots of potential engagement like the Najin-Sonbong free trade zone, the six-party and the reunification talks, and the inclusion of North Korean nationals in my UN negotiation workshop, should give me hope that change is possible.

by Tim Cullen