After Portugal, what next?

The EU’s bailout fund should not make billions from member states’ misery.

EU leaders have just agreed a treaty change to create a permanent European Stability Mechanism to protect the eurozone – a European Monetary Fund in all but name.

The details about the fund, its lending capacity and the way it will work in practice are hazy, though leaked documents from the European Council indicate that it will have a range of financial instruments at its disposal. Given that the banks of just three EU countries – Britain, France and Germany – are exposed to over €1trn of government debt, were a country like Italy or Spain to face a Greek- or Irish-style crisis, it is questionable whether the fund would be sufficient.

The new mechanism will not help Portugal if, following the collapse of the Socialist government orchestrated by the opposition Conservatives, the country has to seek an EU bailout. But we can safely assume that should Portugal or other countries face the economic abyss, as Greece and Ireland did in 2010 (and still face), they will not be charged such punitive interest rates.

At last week's summit the Greek government was given a 1 per cent cut in the interest it will have to pay back. It will pay back its €130bn loan at just over 4 per cent, and be given seven years to pay back its debts.

Ireland was not treated so kindly. After being forced to take a €80bn loan at 6 per cent last December, the new Fine Gael/Labour government, which was elected with a mandate to renegotiate the terms of the loan, was offered a 1 per cent cut. Quite rightly, the new Taoiseach, Enda Kenny, told the summit, dominated by Germany and France, where to stick their offer.

Sub-prime cuts

What the likes of Germany and France have not grasped is that the crises in Greece and Ireland are fundamentally different. Greece faced economic meltdown when the incoming Socialist government found that its predecessors had cooked the books on an impressive scale.

The country's budget deficit was over 12 per cent – not the 3.7 per cent announced by the previous government. Market speculation, combined with the fact that Greek productivity had declined by 50 per cent compared to Germany in a decade, and a system which allowed massive tax evasion, brought the country to its knees.

Ireland's case is different. Like Britain and the US, its housing market boomed and then suddenly burst when the sub-prime crisis hit, and its banks needed huge taxpayer bailouts to stay afloat. Unlike Britain and the US, the biggest Irish banks – Anglo-Irish and Ulster Bank – were still too broke to function. A second vast taxpayer bailout and a disastrous austerity budget (George Osborne, take note) pushed Ireland's deficit to a whopping 32 per cent of GDP.

However, unlike Greece, Ireland never asked for a bailout. It was strong-armed into accepting one. The truth is that it would be economically logical for Ireland to have allowed its banks to default. Many banks would have lost billions – RBS would have lost £40bn, and Deutsche Bank a similar sum – but Irish taxpayers would not have been saddled with paying back €80bn at a 6 per cent interest rate. As it stands, it may well take a generation for the Irish to recover.

There's profit to be made . . .

It is outrageous that, in their dealings with the Irish, EU countries have behaved like the investment banks for which they blamed the financial crisis. For example, the UK Treasury stands to rake in £475m from its £7bn loan to the Irish, and it is far from the worst offender.

If the euro is to survive, this "beggar thy neighbour" approach will have to stop. If not, the stark reality is that the gap between rich and poor nations in the eurozone will get wider and the single currency will collapse. European economic and monetary union cannot survive if its member states seek to make huge profits from another's misery.

The reality is that, while the Fianna Fail government allowed an unsustainable housing boom and reckless investments by its financial sector, Ireland is not solely to blame for the mess it finds itself in. A right-wing "Franco-German" alliance may be dictating austerity cuts and claiming that the crisis must lead to radical pension and wage reform, but it needs to learn a few home truths.

For example, were Spain to go bust, the French and German governments would have to make huge bailouts of their banks. Besides, by keeping wage levels artificially low to stifle domestic consumption, Germany has helped preserve its already vast trade surplus while also preventing other EU countries from exporting their way out of difficulty.

So Ireland, embattled as it may be, has a stronger hand than you might think. So might Portugal and others. If its demand for a loan at reasonable rates is rejected, Ireland could turn around and allow Anglo-Irish, which the new government intends to liquidate anyway, to default.

That would be the move of last resort, but it would at last challenge the arrogance and complacency of the "Franco-German" alliance, which ignores the debt exposure of its own financial sector, and has the temerity to try to impose its will on the rest of Europe.

Ben Fox is political adviser to the Socialist and Democrat group in the European Parliament.

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The vitriol aimed at Hillary Clinton shows the fragility of women's half-won freedom

The more I understand about the way the world treats women, the more I feel the terror of it coming for me.

I’m worried about my age. I’m 36. There’s a line between my eyebrows that’s been making itself known for about the last six years. Every time I see a picture of myself, I automatically seek out the crease. One nick of Botox could probably get rid of it. Has my skin lost its smoothness and glow?

My bathroom shelf has gone from “busy” to “cluttered” lately with things designed to plump, purify and resurface. It’s all very pleasant, but there’s something desperate I know at the bottom of it: I don’t want to look my age.

You might think that being a feminist would help when it comes to doing battle with the beauty myth, but I don’t know if it has. The more I understand about the way the world treats women – and especially older women – the more I feel the terror of it coming for me. Look at the reaction to Hillary Clinton’s book. Too soon. Can’t she go quietly. Why won’t she own her mistakes.

Well Bernie Sanders put a book out the week after the presidential election – an election Clinton has said Sanders did not fully back her in –  and no one said “too soon” about that. (Side note: when it comes to not owning mistakes, Sanders’s Our Revolution deserves a category all to itself, being as how the entire thing was written under the erroneous impression that Clinton, not Trump, would be president.) Al Gore parlayed his loss into a ceaseless tour of activism with An Inconvenient Truth, and everyone seems fine with that. John McCain – Christ, everyone loves John McCain now.

But Hillary? Something about Hillary just makes people want to tell her to STFU. As Mrs Merton might have asked: “What is it that repulses you so much about the first female candidate for US president?” Too emotional, too robotic, too radical, too conservative, too feminist, too patriarchal – Hillary has been called all these things, and all it really means is she’s too female.

How many women can dance on the head of pin? None, that’s the point: give them a millimetre of space to stand in and shake your head sadly as one by one they fall off. Oh dear. Not this woman. Maybe the next one.

It’s in that last bit that that confidence racket being worked on women really tells: maybe the next one. And maybe the next one could be you! If you do everything right, condemn all the mistakes of the women before you (and condemn the women themselves too), then maybe you’ll be the one standing tippy-toe on the miniscule territory that women are permitted. I’m angry with the men who engage in Clinton-bashing. With the women, it’s something else. Sadness. Pity, maybe. You think they’ll let it be you. You think you’ve found the Right Kind of Feminism. But you haven’t and you never will, because it doesn’t exist.

Still, who wouldn’t want to be the Right Kind of Feminist when there are so many ready lessons on what happens to the Wrong Kind of Feminist. The wrong kind of feminist, now, is the kind of feminist who thinks men have no right to lease women by the fuck (the “sex worker exclusionary radical feminist”, or SWERF) or the kind of feminist who thinks gender is a repressive social construct (rechristened the “trans exclusionary radical feminist”, or TERF).

Hillary Clinton, who has said that prostitution is “demeaning to women” – because it absolutely is demeaning to treat sexual access to women as a tradeable commodity – got attacked from the left as a SWERF. Her pre-election promises suggest that she would probably have continued the Obama administration’s sloppy reinterpretation of sex discrimination protections as gender identity protections, so not a TERF. Even so, one of the charges against her from those who considered her not radical enough was that she was a “rich, white, cis lady.” Linger over that. Savour its absurdity. Because what it means is: I won’t be excited about a woman presidential candidate who was born female.

This year was the 50th anniversary of the partial decriminalisation of homosexuality, and of the Abortion Act. One of these was met with seasons of celebratory programming; one, barely mentioned at all. (I took part in a radio documentary about “men’s emotional experiences of abortion”, where I made the apparently radical point that abortion is actually something that principally affects women.) No surprise that the landmark benefiting women was the one that got ignored. Because women don’t get to have history.

That urge to shuffle women off the stage – troublesome women, complicated women, brilliant women – means that female achievements are wiped of all significance as soon as they’re made. The second wave was “problematic”, so better not to expose yourself to Dworkin, Raymond, Lorde, Millett, the Combahee River Collective, Firestone or de Beauvoir (except for that one line that everyone misquotes as if it means that sex is of no significance). Call them SWERFs and TERFs and leave the books unread. Hillary Clinton “wasn’t perfect”, so don’t listen to anything she has to say based on her vast and unique experience of government and politics: just deride, deride, deride.

Maybe, if you’re a woman, you’ll be able to deride her hard enough to show you deserve what she didn’t. But you’ll still have feminine obsolescence yawning in your future. Even if you can’t admit it – because, as Katrine Marçal has pointed out in Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?, our entire economy is predicated on discounting women’s work – you’ll need the politics of women who analysed and understood their situation as women. You’ll still be a woman, like the women who came before us, to whom we owe the impossible debt of our half-won freedom.

In the summer of 2016, a radio interviewer asked me whether women should be grateful to Clinton. At the time, I said no: we should be respectful, but what I wanted was a future where women could take their place in the world for granted. What nonsense. We should be laying down armfuls of flowers for our foremothers every day.

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.