Too early for good news from Greece

Ministers' claims that the economy has "turned a corner" don't bear up to scrutiny.

"Greece has turned a corner" is the general message Yannis Stournaras, the Greek Finance Minister, has been trying to spread in the past few months. Not only "The IMF has praised improvements to Greece's much-maligned tax collection procedures," as the Greek media have been reporting lately, but also, as Stournaras said, "Greece could return to international debt markets by next May." This same line has been at play since late last year, when the Bank of Greece Governor Giorgos Provopoulos stated in an interview with the Financial Times that the worst is over. "Greece could return to the markets in 2014," Stournaras went on. "We've turned a corner".

The international media have tried their hand at this, with Reuters columnist Hugo Dixon writing in his piece The Gloom Around Greece is Dissipating:

Athens now seems on course to achieve 'primary balance' this year. In other words, it will not have a budget deficit before interest payments. That means it probably will not have to implement another round of austerity next year, so the economy will not be struggling against that obstacle.

One might notice there is a quite big maybe in there, standing out. In the same spirit, Yannis Stournaras commented last week in an interview with NET that "this year we managed to make up for two thirds of the fiscal gap, without cutting pensions". Again, Stournaras seems to only be speaking about part of the money Greece will need within 2013 in order to avoid cutting deeper into pensions and public spending, while at the same time admitting that 2013 will be a very difficult year. His view is that unemployment will start falling in 2014.

There are several problems with this, and the unavoidable question arises: is Greece really doing better or is Stournaras simply spinning a positive vibe to soothe the markets and maybe help Merkel and co. look good ahead of the German elections in September? The first issue here would be a whopping €8.2bn the country owes to private companies and contractors. Greece has only managed to make its overall finances look good by stopping payments towards the domestic market. Part of the bailout funds will have to be used in order for this debt to be paid off, but a sense of "too little, too late" is in the air as this delay has strangled many businesses in the past 3 years. A "possible return to the markets" is more like a "necessary exit" as bailout funds run dry next April and additional aid looks unlikely to arrive. Any issues we might face on the road there, lie exclusively with the coalition's financial strategy.

The government's decision to increase taxation on heating oil did not only leave many Greeks unable to heat their homes last winter, but also caused general revenue from taxes to drop by €291m, after consumption fell by 68.7 per cent. Since the beginning of the year, due to this and other tax hikes, tax revenues were lower than the targets set by the government and the Troika in the first three months of 2013.

The most terrifying prospect Greece faces in the next few months though, is the devastating unemployment. Overall unemployment in Greece is now 27 per cent while it goes up to 28.7 per cent in certain regions. In the 18 to 25 age group, unemployment stands at a staggering 64 per cent. To give some perspective, unemployment stood at 21.9 per cent last January, and has more than tripled since the crisis began in 2008. It is likely that it will touch 30 per cent by the end of the year, despite the cuts in wages that now sees those making the minimum wage earning no more than €440 per month after taxes.

It is easy to assume that in his statement, Yannis Stournaras means that unemployment will start falling once it reaches the dreaded 30 per cent. This does little to comfort Greeks. Despite the numbers the government chooses to stress in order to support its position of "light at the end of the tunnel", the very real problems of unemployment, dwindling consumption and political instability are felt by ordinary Greeks. New cuts in wages and pensions are still on the table if Greece doesn’t achieve a primary surplus this year or if, let's be honest, this primary surplus is achieved on shaky grounds and new taxes await within the year.

We've yet to see the Greek government clash and cut its ties with the Greek oligarchs that have refused so far to pay their fair share of the burden. Ship-owners still enjoy scandalous tax-exemptions, while the same people who often found themselves facing charges for cheating the state out of millions (and still owe tens of millions according to the data released by the ministry of finance) appear to still be in business with the ruling New Democracy party. This only stands proof that the government will opt to put even more of that burden on the backs of those already finding themselves in dire position because of this unwillingness.

The ruling coalition and the Troika's spin dominates public discourse in Greece. According to a recent report, the government takes up 63.4 per cent of the time allocated to political parties, while the Troika and its representative’s statements take up 57.2 per cent of the rest. This may be helpful for the financial climate to improve at a superficial level and to make Angela Merkel and Wolfgang Schauble look good while elections draw near (a courtesy Schauble looks unwilling to grant Greece), but it does little in the way of truth.

A harsh summer that will bring hikes in electricity bills will find Greeks once again in discomfort, this time battling the predicted heatwave without access to air-conditioning. Health issues will inevitably arise. And that's only one part of the problem. No matter how much the Greek government wants us to believe things are bound to get better, it does to little to help those who actually need it: the people. If only wishful thinking and PR could replace reality…

Follow Yiannis on twitter @YiannisBab

Greek finance minister Yiannis Stournaras. (Photo: Getty.)

Yiannis Baboulias is a Greek investigative journalist. His work on politics, economics and Greece, appears in the New Statesman, Vice UK and others.

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Unlikely sisters in the Gaza Strip

A former Jewish settler in Gaza recalls her childhood friendship with a young Palestinian.

It was well after midnight, one summer night in 1995, when Inbar Rozy, a 13-year-old living in the former Israeli settlement of Alei Sinai in the northern Gaza Strip, heard her parents answer the phone. Sitting up in bed, surrounded by potted plants, candles and fairy dolls lit by shafts of light from a nearby security outpost, Inbar listened closely.

“I could hear everyone talking around me, making calls,” Inbar said when we met recently in Nitzan, southern Israel. When she got up to find out what was happening, her parents told her to make up a second mattress. As dawn broke, they led into the room a young woman carrying a small bag and wearing a black shirt and jeans. “She had shoulder-length dark hair dyed with red henna and beautiful eyes – big, black with thick eyelashes,” Inbar told me, smiling. “[She was] quiet. She looked scared.”

The woman was Rina (her surname cannot be given for security reasons), a talented artist in her early twenties studying at a local art college, where she had fallen in love with a Christian boy. For Rina, coming from a traditional family, marrying a non-Muslim would be strictly forbidden.

When her parents found out, they were furious and forbade her from seeing her boyfriend. But her male cousins felt this wasn’t enough. Earlier on the day the girls first met, Rina’s cousins had attempted to kill her in retribution for her perceived “honour crime”. Seeing that another attempt on her life was likely, Rina’s father called a relative, who in turn called Inbar’s father, Yossef, a friend of many years. There was no doubt she had to leave. Ironically, a Jewish settlement protected by the Israel Defence Forces was the safest place in Gaza for her to be.

In 1967, Israel seized the Gaza Strip from Egypt during the Six Day War. In time, it settled 21 communities on a third of the land, with a population of 8,000 by 2005. Soldiers guarded the settlements from 1.5 million displaced Palestinians, tens of thousands of whom were displaced in 1967 and moved to live in nearby refugee camps. In Gaza, before Israel’s ultimate withdrawal from the Strip in 2005, relationships between Israeli settlers and Palestinians were fraught. True, many Palestinians worked in Israeli settlements, earning wages higher than elsewhere in the Strip, but the two communities lived largely separate lives.

In the mid-1990s, even after the Oslo Accords, violence was simmering. Israeli military incursions increased with the outbreak of the Second Intifada in 2000. Thousands of home-made Qassam rockets were launched by Palestinian militants at settlers and those living in southern Israel. Security measures hardened. The veteran Israeli journalist Amira Hass, who spent several years living in Gaza, describes neighbourhoods that were “turned into jails behind barbed-wire fences, closed gates, IDF surveillance, tanks and entry-permit red tape”.

And yet, in spite of the forced segregation, Inbar’s family enjoyed close links with their Palestinian neighbours. Inbar’s father worked as an ambulance driver, and on several occasions he helped transport those who lived nearby for emergency medical treatment in Israel. “Every Tuesday, my father’s Jewish and Arab friends would come to our house and we’d eat lunch together,” Inbar remembered.

Given the gravity of Rina’s situation, she couldn’t leave the house. Secrecy was paramount. The girls spent weeks together indoors, Inbar said, chatting, watching TV and drawing. “I’m not sure that as a child I actually understood it for real,” she said. “She taught me how to paint and sketch a face from sight.”

Almost as soon as Rina arrived, Inbar’s family began receiving anonymous phone calls asking about her. “My dad told me, ‘Don’t mention anything about Rina. Say you don’t know what they’re talking about – because otherwise they’ll come and kill us,’” Inbar said.

While the girls got to know each other, Inbar’s mother, Brigitte, found a women’s shelter in East Jerusalem for Rina. Whereas today Gaza is closed off by a military border under heavy surveillance, at that time it was porous. Brigitte drove Rina in to the capital, where she was given a new name and identity that would enable her to begin a new life, on condition that she contact no one in Gaza.

Today Inbar, who is 33, works at the Gush Katif centre in Nitzan – a museum dedicated to the memory of the Israeli settlements in Gaza. Despite her parents’ objections, the family was evacuated in 2005. Unlike most settlers in Gaza, some residents of Alei Sinai were determined to stay on, even if that meant forfeiting their Israeli citizenship. “I have no problem with living as a minority in a Palestinian state,” one of Alei Sinai’s inhabitants, Avi Farhan, told the Israeli daily Haaretz at the time.

Inbar now lives in Ashkelon, a city of 140,000 in southern Israel, and finds the big city alienating, especially when she recalls the warm relationships that once existed in Gaza. “I’ve never felt less secure,” she told me.

Years later, she learned that Rina had developed cancer and died. “The day before Rina left . . . she drew a portrait of me,” she said, describing how her friend had outlined, in charcoal strokes, the features of the teenager. Her parents packed the portrait with all their belongings in a shipping container the day they left Gaza. Soon after, the container was destroyed in a fire.

“I think if people had given it a chance . . . they would have had these kinds of friendships,” Inbar said, looking back. “We’d get along fairly well if we didn’t look at others as the monsters over the wall.” 

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism