Could the rise of Golden Dawn save the Eurozone?

In Germany's nightmares, inflation leads to Nazis. But now that there are Nazis anyway, perhaps we'l

More growth would obviously do a lot to help the Eurozone. For Spain and Italy, a healthy level of growth alone might be enough to pull them out of crisis mode. For Greece, more would have to be done, but it would be a strong start.

Unfortunately, that growth is being at least partially quashed by the outspoken desire of Germany (and thus the European Central Bank) to keep inflation low. High inflation in Germany would overcome the problem that the Eurozone currently has where wages in Spain, Greece and Portugal need to fall relative to those in the core, but are showing no signs of doing so.

Why is Germany so against inflation?

Well, the fact that high inflation would negatively impact the German economy is obviously a large part of it. But equally important is the experience of the German people in the 1930s. Put bluntly, there is a fear in Germany that high inflation leads to fascism.

Which is why the rise of Greek neo-nazis Golden Dawn (whose flag looks like an alternate-universe version of the swastika) could be a blessing in disguise. Albeit a really, really good disguise. Because the one thing Germany hates more than inflation is Nazis.

Greece has price of a little under 2 per cent. There are a lot of things causing the rise of their homegrown Nazis, but hyperinflation is not one of them. So right now Germans are seeing their worst nightmare happen even though they managed to keep inflation low across the Eurozone.

Could this mean that they'll back off slightly over their overbearing desire to keep inflation low?

Well, so far there isn't a huge amount of encouraging news. On Wednesday, the FT did report that:

A future German inflation rate above the eurozone average could be part of a natural adjustment process as crisis-hit countries pulled themselves out of recession, the Bundesbank argued in evidence to German parliamentarians.

Except that that was only a couple of days after the Bundesbank president wrote in the same paper that:

To prevent the recovery stalling, demands have been directed at the Eurosystem to deliver yet lower interest rates (or at least to forego raising them), yet more liquidity and even larger purchases of assets.

However, the assumption underlying such well-intentioned advice does not hold up to closer scrutiny.

So they don't appear to have been spooked into monetary expansion anytime soon. Perhaps Golden Dawn aren't really a blessing in disguise after all; sometimes, to misquote Freud, a Nazi is just a Nazi.

The leader of the fascist Golden Dawn party. Photograph: Getty

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times