Where's the beef? The Argentinian capital was once courted by British investors
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The lost colony

Buenos Aires is home to ghosts from British history past and present.

My Anglo-Argentinian boss at the Buenos Aires Herald, Andrew Graham-Yooll, used to call the city where we worked "the forgotten colony", referring to the amnesia on the Anglo side. How, he asked, could all those years of investment, railway-building and trading in Angus beef be so insignificant to Britain's collective memory?

As I head out of my hotel and along the calle Reconquista on a damp Sunday, parts of the city look more like an abandoned colony.

The Retiro railway station, built a century ago with girders from Francis Morton & Co of Liverpool, is dilapidated. The Richmond, once the smartest café on calle Florida, has been boarded up for demolition. Its most celebrated habitué was Jorge Luis Borges, a writer so unrepentantly anglophiliac that, when composing his verses in Spanish, he used English word order to facilitate translation.

The former branch of Harrods on the same street is in a ruinous state. When I lived in the Argentinian capital between 1991 and 2001, there were perennial rumours that the store would be reopened; but it lurks there, doomed for the wrecking ball, an entire city block full of dark shadows.

The one building that looks intact is the Torre de los Ingleses, or English Tower, a replica of Big Ben gifted to the city by British expats in 1910 for the centenary of the wars of independence. The tower was renamed the Torre Monumental after the 1982 war. Facing it is the august black marble Malvinas war memorial where, a week before my visit, a French photographer was stabbed to death while taking pictures.

The 30th anniversary of the invasion of the Falklands feels different from earlier ones. The media are following President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner's populist lead in making as much fuss as possible. Like her late husband, the former president Néstor Kirchner, she is an expert rabble-rouser and the oil question gives her ammunition. But she is also a classic Perónist, relying on the votes of the "shirtless ones". The decay I see in the city is not confined to the vestiges of Englishness; modern-day Buenos Aires would like to be a cool, cosmopolitan city but it is run as a vast provincial shanty town.

I go with my old friend Mariano for a few beers at El Británico bar in San Telmo. Like many Argentinians, Mariano is an Anglophile, of sorts. His particular passion is late-Seventies and Eighties British punk, new wave and ska: the music that I grew up with. Mariano dislikes "la presidenta" because he loves culture and loathes jingoism.

“It's ridiculous," he says. "Argentinians love speaking English, love London and love football, which you gave us. When the English brought the first balls, they were deflated and everyone thought they were hats."

There's a football match showing on a TV in the corner. Some fans have strung up a banner screaming "Inglaterra! La concha de tu madre!", which translates (politely) as "England! Your mother's private parts!".

“Look at the name of the team they support," Mariano says. "It's Newell's Old Boys. You can't get more English than that."

Claim to fame

For Mariano, music is the only useful tool of diplomacy. "Last week, Morrissey was here. Buenos Aires went crazy. Next week it's Roger Waters, playing nine gigs at the Monumental [the city's biggest stadium, seating more than 65,000], and he's an old fart."

Towards the end of my trip I stay at an estancia outside the city. Over dinner, Guillermo, the manager of the estate, tells me his brother-in-law is a Malvinas veteran and asks if I'd like to meet him. The next day I have tea with Juan Casanegra, the veteran. "They sent me from a base near the beach in Mar del Plata to the Falklands ten days after I was drafted," he says. "I didn't know how to hold a gun, and they put me in a battalion positioning anti-aircraft guns at Stanley Airport. We learned how to lie down when the Vulcan bombers came over."

In spite of the trauma of this experience, Juan says he feels neither anger nor bitterness. "I'm not saying the islands belong to the British, but we lost the war and we should be better losers. I also think politicians who politicise the conflict are wrong. Because Néstor Kirchner gave veterans a US$2,000-a-month pension, many of those who didn't get sent to the island are trying to claim it. They never fought in the Falklands; they weren't there."

Juan says he can't give his usual anniversary talks in schools this year because the political atmosphere is too heated. "It wouldn't be safe to say what I feel right now."

He is educated, dignified and not nationalistic at all, but he surprises me when he says he wishes another invasion had been won by the British. "You know the English tried to take Buenos Aires in 1806 and 1807? Well, I wish they had. We'd be better off if Argentina was English. We wouldn't be in the mess we are in."

For two decades, I've been hearing this remark, but it's the first time I've ever heard it from a Malvinas veteran.

Chris Moss is the travel and books editor of Time Out. His "Patagonia: a Cultural History" is published by Signal Books (£12)

This article first appeared in the 02 April 2012 issue of the New Statesman, France is my enemy

Jeremy Corbyn. Photo: Getty
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Lexit: the EU is a neoliberal project, so let's do something different when we leave it

Brexit affords the British left a historic opportunity for a decisive break with EU market liberalism.

The Brexit vote to leave the European Union has many parents, but "Lexit" – the argument for exiting the EU from the left – remains an orphan. A third of Labour voters backed Leave, but they did so without any significant leadership from the Labour Party. Left-of-centre votes proved decisive in determining the outcome of a referendum that was otherwise framed, shaped, and presented almost exclusively by the right. A proper left discussion of the issues has been, if not entirely absent, then decidedly marginal – part of a more general malaise when it comes to developing left alternatives that has begun to be corrected only recently, under Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell.

Ceding Brexit to the right was very nearly the most serious strategic mistake by the British left since the ‘70s. Under successive leaders Labour became so incorporated into the ideology of Europeanism as to preclude any clear-eyed critical analysis of the actually existing EU as a regulatory and trade regime pursuing deep economic integration. The same political journey that carried Labour into its technocratic embrace of the EU also resulted in the abandonment of any form of distinctive economics separate from the orthodoxies of market liberalism.

It’s been astounding to witness so many left-wingers, in meltdown over Brexit, resort to parroting liberal economics. Thus we hear that factor mobility isn’t about labour arbitrage, that public services aren’t under pressure, that we must prioritise foreign direct investment and trade. It’s little wonder Labour became so detached from its base. Such claims do not match the lived experience of ordinary people in regions of the country devastated by deindustrialisation and disinvestment.

Nor should concerns about wage stagnation and bargaining power be met with finger-wagging accusations of racism, as if the manner in which capitalism pits workers against each other hasn’t long been understood. Instead, we should be offering real solutions – including a willingness to rethink capital mobility and trade. This places us in direct conflict with the constitutionalised neoliberalism of the EU.

Only the political savvy of the leadership has enabled Labour to recover from its disastrous positioning post-referendum. Incredibly, what seemed an unbeatable electoral bloc around Theresa May has been deftly prized apart in the course of an extraordinary General Election campaign. To consolidate the political project they have initiated, Corbyn and McDonnell must now follow through with a truly radical economic programme. The place to look for inspiration is precisely the range of instruments and policy options discouraged or outright forbidden by the EU.

A neoliberal project

The fact that right-wing arguments for Leave predominated during the referendum says far more about today’s left than it does about the European Union. There has been a great deal of myth-making concerning the latter –much of it funded, directly or indirectly, by the EU itself.

From its inception, the EU has been a top-down project driven by political and administrative elites, "a protected sphere", in the judgment of the late Peter Mair, "in which policy-making can evade the constraints imposed by representative democracy". To complain about the EU’s "democratic deficit" is to have misunderstood its purpose. The main thrust of European economic policy has been to extend and deepen the market through liberalisation, privatisation, and flexiblisation, subordinating employment and social protection to goals of low inflation, debt reduction, and increased competitiveness.

Prospects for Keynesian reflationary policies, or even for pan-European economic planning – never great – soon gave way to more Hayekian conceptions. Hayek’s original insight, in The Economic Conditions of Interstate Federalism, was that free movement of capital, goods, and labour – a "single market" – among a federation of nations would severely and necessarily restrict the economic policy space available to individual members. Pro-European socialists, whose aim had been to acquire new supranational options for the regulation of capital, found themselves surrendering the tools they already possessed at home. The national road to socialism, or even to social democracy, was closed.

The direction of travel has been singular and unrelenting. To take one example, workers’ rights – a supposed EU strength – are steadily being eroded, as can be seen in landmark judgments by the European Court of Justice (ECJ) in the Viking and Laval cases, among others. In both instances, workers attempting to strike in protest at plans to replace workers from one EU country with lower-wage workers from another, were told their right to strike could not infringe upon the "four freedoms" – free movement of capital, labour, goods, and services – established by the treaties.

More broadly, on trade, financial regulation, state aid, government purchasing, public service delivery, and more, any attempt to create a different kind of economy from inside the EU has largely been forestalled by competition policy or single market regulation.

A new political economy

Given that the UK will soon be escaping the EU, what opportunities might this afford? Three policy directions immediately stand out: public ownership, industrial strategy, and procurement. In each case, EU regulation previously stood in the way of promising left strategies. In each case, the political and economic returns from bold departures from neoliberal orthodoxy after Brexit could be substantial.

While not banned outright by EU law, public ownership is severely discouraged and disadvantaged by it. ECJ interpretation of Article 106 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU) has steadily eroded public ownership options. "The ECJ", argues law professor Danny Nicol, "appears to have constructed a one-way street in favour of private-sector provision: nationalised services are prima facie suspect and must be analysed for their necessity". Sure enough, the EU has been a significant driver of privatisation, functioning like a ratchet. It’s much easier for a member state to pursue the liberalisation of sectors than to secure their (re)nationalisation. Article 59 (TFEU) specifically allows the European Council and Parliament to liberalise services. Since the ‘80s, there have been single market programmes in energy, transport, postal services, telecommunications, education, and health.

Britain has long been an extreme outlier on privatisation, responsible for 40 per cent of the total assets privatised across the OECD between 1980 and 1996. Today, however, increasing inequality, poverty, environmental degradation and the general sense of an impoverished public sphere are leading to growing calls for renewed public ownership (albeit in new, more democratic forms). Soon to be free of EU constraints, it’s time to explore an expanded and fundamentally reimagined UK public sector.

Next, Britain’s industrial production has been virtually flat since the late 1990s, with a yawning trade deficit in industrial goods. Any serious industrial strategy to address the structural weaknesses of UK manufacturing will rely on "state aid" – the nurturing of a next generation of companies through grants, interest and tax relief, guarantees, government holdings, and the provision of goods and services on a preferential basis.

Article 107 TFEU allows for state aid only if it is compatible with the internal market and does not distort competition, laying out the specific circumstances in which it could be lawful. Whether or not state aid meets these criteria is at the sole discretion of the Commission – and courts in member states are obligated to enforce the commission’s decisions. The Commission has adopted an approach that considers, among other things, the existence of market failure, the effectiveness of other options, and the impact on the market and competition, thereby allowing state aid only in exceptional circumstances.

For many parts of the UK, the challenges of industrial decline remain starkly present – entire communities are thrown on the scrap heap, with all the associated capital and carbon costs and wasted lives. It’s high time the left returned to the possibilities inherent in a proactive industrial strategy. A true community-sustaining industrial strategy would consist of the deliberate direction of capital to sectors, localities, and regions, so as to balance out market trends and prevent communities from falling into decay, while also ensuring the investment in research and development necessary to maintain a highly productive economy. Policy, in this vision, would function to re-deploy infrastructure, production facilities, and workers left unemployed because of a shutdown or increased automation.

In some cases, this might mean assistance to workers or localities to buy up facilities and keep them running under worker or community ownership. In other cases it might involve re-training workers for new skills and re-fitting facilities. A regional approach might help launch new enterprises that would eventually be spun off as worker or local community-owned firms, supporting the development of strong and vibrant network economies, perhaps on the basis of a Green New Deal. All of this will be possible post-Brexit, under a Corbyn government.

Lastly, there is procurement. Under EU law, explicitly linking public procurement to local entities or social needs is difficult. The ECJ has ruled that, even if there is no specific legislation, procurement activity must "comply with the fundamental rules of the Treaty, in particular the principle of non-discrimination on grounds of nationality". This means that all procurement contracts must be open to all bidders across the EU, and public authorities must advertise contracts widely in other EU countries. In 2004, the European Parliament and Council issued two directives establishing the criteria governing such contracts: "lowest price only" and "most economically advantageous tender".

Unleashed from EU constraints, there are major opportunities for targeting large-scale public procurement to rebuild and transform communities, cities, and regions. The vision behind the celebrated Preston Model of community wealth building – inspired by the work of our own organisation, The Democracy Collaborative, in Cleveland, Ohio – leverages public procurement and the stabilising power of place-based anchor institutions (governments, hospitals, universities) to support rooted, participatory, democratic local economies built around multipliers. In this way, public funds can be made to do "double duty"; anchoring jobs and building community wealth, reversing long-term economic decline. This suggests the viability of a very different economic approach and potential for a winning political coalition, building support for a new socialist economics from the ground up.

With the prospect of a Corbyn government now tantalisingly close, it’s imperative that Labour reconciles its policy objectives in the Brexit negotiations with its plans for a radical economic transformation and redistribution of power and wealth. Only by pursuing strategies capable of re-establishing broad control over the national economy can Labour hope to manage the coming period of pain and dislocation following Brexit. Based on new institutions and approaches and the centrality of ownership and control, democracy, and participation, we should be busy assembling the tools and strategies that will allow departure from the EU to open up new political-economic horizons in Britain and bring about the profound transformation the country so desperately wants and needs.

Joe Guinan is executive director of the Next System Project at The Democracy Collaborative. Thomas M. Hanna is research director at The Democracy Collaborative.

This is an extract from a longer essay which appears in the inaugural edition of the IPPR Progressive Review.

 

 

This article first appeared in the 02 April 2012 issue of the New Statesman, France is my enemy