Saturday, 12 February 2011

A modest proposal 2

Whereas the post below is a sort of starting point for investigation, this is a shorter version, for a Labour Party meeting.

An amendment to resolution 2, in context:

I want to place my proposed amended resolution 2 in the context of a constructive alternative proposal for a viable short- and medium-term policy strategy for the party. Point 8 addresses directly the content of the original resolution. My amended version follows.

1. New Labour applied the social democratic principle of trying to make capitalism fairer by adapting to the dominant political-economic ideology of the day so as to channel more resources to social projects.
2. The global economic and financial crisis of 2007-09 has changed the political, economic and intellectual terrain dramatically and for good, shaking the dominant ideological edifice in place over the past 30 years—namely, the idea that there is no alternative to unrestrained free-market capitalism—as it was in large part the unforeseen by-product of untrammelled deregulation.
3. As a consequence, the raison d'être of New Labour has fallen away.
4. It is unsurprising that the right reacts according to the dictates of its shop-worn worldview. The left must not do the same. It must create a new policy framework to make Labour values relevant anew to the changed national and global situations.
5. May 2010 saw the defeat for social democracy in one of its incarnations. There is now an opportunity for a thoroughgoing rethink. Ed Miliband’s “slow start” as Labour leader shows that he has rightly decided to take time to reforge strategy and policies for the new era.
6. It would be premature to imagine that the discrediting of the unrestrained free-market yet augurs the decline or transcendence of capitalism itself, not least because…
7. Realistic alternative socio-economic mechanisms that will provide dynamic innovation and which are ready to put to in place straight away are at best embryonic.
8. In the short term, Labour’s priority must be to expose the ideological, class character of the government’s cuts agenda, which could yet endanger Britain’s faltering economic recovery. It must also offer a clear, alternative policy approach to the problems of weak growth, a large fiscal deficit and burgeoning of inflation that shows that it grasps the way in which a national capitalist economy currently works in an international context.
9. Over the medium to longer term, more promising prospects arise. It should be possible to sketch a strategy that pursues two broad policy paths at once. The first path would be pro-market and pro-globalisation, to maximise state resources available for pursuing the second, more radical path, using the economic tool-kit at hand. The second path involves a commitment, not just to the redistribution of state funds, but also to substantial and sustained material and practical support, within civil society, for experimental political and economic institution-building, with the goal of addressing the well-known shortcomings of capitalist production, of extending social control over political and economic life, and of developing alternative socio-economic mechanisms that could open up economic opportunity and unleash the creative capabilities of all.
10. Thus, although capitalism might not automatically equip its own gravediggers as fast as some of us might like, we should try to ensure that it supplies sufficient taxes to pay for the gravediggers’ advanced vocational training.

Amended resolution: That the party should continue to expose the ideological, class character of the government’s cuts agenda, which hits the worst-off disproportionately and could yet endanger Britain’s faltering recovery. It should offer voters an economically credible, pro-growth and pro-employment policy, making use of efficiency savings, as the main means of reducing the fiscal deficit and the national debt. Any spending cuts that are necessary because of the mismatch between expectations about government income before and after the crisis—as the economy enters a lower average growth path—will thus be clearly distinguished from those of the Tories in terms of timing, scale and targeting.

A modest proposal

A suggestion for Labour’s broad strategy after the global economic crisis and the demise of New Labour.

Old wine in new bottles?
1. When New Labour came to power in 1997 it had some reasonably radical proposals, but then drifted ever further to the right and away from the party’s traditional values, distancing itself from its core, working class supporters as it sucked up to globalising “neo-liberalism”.
This familiar narrative, by now somewhat tired and formulaic, nevertheless remains popular among some who identify themselves with the left. An alternative, minority reading—one which seems less stirring but closer to the mark—is that New Labour’s strategy and practice was simply the latest manifestation, and by no means the least successful, of the central social democratic principle of using state power to make capitalism a bit fairer through increased redistribution. In its case, this was done by adapting to the dominant political-economic ideology of the day so as to channel a larger share of economic resources to social projects such as healthcare improvements and school-building.
2. I’d better say right away that, although I’m a member of the Labour Party, I couldn't really be called a social democrat, and especially not one of the New Labour kind. Rather, I count myself as some sort of democratic socialist and/or Marxist. (I used to think the word “democratic” superfluous in this connection, since it seemed to me that it was already automatically included to the idea of "socialism", meaning the extension of popular political and economic control. Certain developments during the past decade have since convinced me, reluctantly and belatedly, that, even after the historic and welcome defeat of the Stalinist regimes, this is not always necessarily the case.) Freedom and egalitarianism are the other indispensable values of this strand of political belief. It does not denigrate or underplay the tangible achievements and benefits of liberal democracy; rather, it values highly the political space that liberal democracy affords, compared with other contemporary and historical options. At the same time, it is confident about the desirability of, and popular capacity for, developing political arrangements that not only incorporate liberal democratic achievements, but that also considerably augment and go beyond them. As a starting point on imperialism—in our day, roughly, the world institutional set up designed to facilitate the expansion and reproduction of capitalist power—it is opposed on principle. That said, it is not oblivious to the existence of other repressive and reactionary forces in contemporary international politics, forces that cannot be traced back wholly satisfactorily to the complex and ever-mutating structures of Western imperialism. This is one of the reasons that—dare I say it?—in some contexts imperialism has been, and probably could be again, relatively progressive. To state the obvious, the characteristic social relations of capitalism, though exploitative, are nevertheless superior to those of feudalism (because…), and parliamentary democracy, for all its shortcomings, is superior politically and morally both to fascism (because…) and violent Islamism. Perhaps I’d better add at this point for good measure that, although my political preferences are, in the main, far to the left of those of Tony Blair, the more he has come in for criticism from the mainstream liberal-left media, and the more this criticism has become merely reflexive, a genuflection to conventional wisdom, a badge of belonging, the more I have warmed to him. I don’t know if any of this is very bad, or if there is anyone else who shares this rough combination of view: I’m just describing.

The end of the affair
3.
The global economic and financial crisis of 2007-09 has changed the political, economic and intellectual terrain dramatically and for good. Emerging out of the US property market in 2007 and reaching a peak of intensity in late 2008 and 2009, it was not only the most severe such crisis of world capitalism in 60 years, but also the most important world political event since the implosion of the Soviet Union almost 20 years ago.
Nevertheless, the impact of the crash was not the same everywhere. In 2009 the world economy contracted, weighed down by the very poor performance of the advanced Western economies. Although sharp falls in real output were concentrated in the economies of north America and western Europe, many countries in eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union were hit especially hard. Real GDP in Canada and the US shrank by around 2.5% in annual terms, on IMF figures. Of the leading countries in the EU, France saw economic activity wither just as much, whereas in Germany (the largest economy in the group) and in Italy, output dropped by around 5%. In central Europe, apart from Poland, output falls were of a similar magnitude or a bit worse (Hungary and Romania). Countries that had previously been involved in heavy foreign borrowing and/or were reliant on the vicissitudes of commodities markets, such as the small Baltic states and the relatively large Ukrainian economy, suffered much deeper recessions, of 15-18% annually, comparable in size to those seen in the chaotic aftermath of the fall of communism two decades before. Although not quite so traumatic, the crisis in Russia exposed the multiple fragilities of its economy, the most important in the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS; an institution that takes in many of the former Soviet countries), where national production fell by almost 8%. Only nations with a relative lack of integration into the world financial system came through comparatively unscathed (Azerbaijan, Uzbekistan). In contrast, in other emerging-market regions—notably, those in Asia—the impact, though marked, was much less severe. In the same year, in a far-flung and obscure corner of the globe known as Britain, real GDP shrank by 5%, by far its most severe post-war slump. Without the massive boost in government spending and the rapid and substantial monetary loosening undertaken by Gordon Brown, it would have been much worse, probably leading to the return of mass unemployment (though he shouldn't hold his breath if he expects to get any credit for avoiding this). Without the unprecedentedly large, swift and co-ordinated actions internationally, it would have been worse still. Bringing things a little more up to date, at the beginning of 2011 the on-going troubles in the peripheral economies of the Euro zone indicate that the crisis has not yet run its course. Most recently, the inspiring and momentous popular uprisings against corrupt and authoritarian regimes in Arab North Africa and the Arabian Peninsula may be another of its after-shocks, as economic eruptions can interact over time with existing, underlying weaknesses to trigger social and political crises.
4. Probably the most important long-term consequence of the crisis is that it has seriously shaken the dominant intellectual and ideological edifice in place over the past 30 years—namely, the idea that no alternative to unrestrained free-market capitalism was possible—as the crisis was in large part the unforeseen by-product of untrammelled deregulation, as well as a specific and dogmatic-idealist view of the nature of capitalism. In the interim, however, the standing of this set of ideas was only enhanced by the collapse of the Soviet bloc.
5. Perhaps it is understandable that, with a definite phase of capitalist expansion and ideological dominance in effect over, greatly undermined by the scale of the global economic crisis, only its adherents and beneficiaries seem not so far to have noticed. This could just be a testament to the power of habitual thinking, or perhaps it is this in combination with the narrowness of the Anglo-American economic education syllabus, which means that, whatever happens, most insiders are left swinging on the bars of a cage that is tightly framed by the parameters of what they have been taught. There must also be some emotional resistance to loosening one’s hold of ideas that are in places moderately complicated and possibly hard to master. Whatever the reasons, having escaped the looming catastrophe of a wholesale breakdown of the international financial system and a rerun of the Great Depression, the City and its newspapers, its legions of commentators and economic journalists whose job is to tailor the news to suit businessmen, not to mention the multilateral organisations, seem almost immediately to have returned blithely to business as usual, intoning pretty much the same formulas about economic probity and reform, wheeling out the same tired and implausible texts about the necessity of rewarding investment bankers and CEOs with enormous bonuses if they are to continue to compete successfully in the international market by attracting “talented” staff. Presumably, among such staff are some of the geniuses who cleverly ignored every warning sign in the run-up to the crisis­—and, indeed, the bonus system may have been one of the factors that systematically incentivised them to do so.
In Britain, the social composition of the new government, made up of the parties of the landed aristocracy and their hangers on aligned with big finance and the spokesmen of the business class, of course predisposes it to try to take advantage of the crisis to push developments in the direction of the interests of its constituents, according to their overlapping world views and the familiar policy prescriptions that go with them. Hence the institution of a programme of cuts beyond the scale immediately required as a follow up to the UK’s stimulus package and the large cyclical (recession-induced) deficit, so as to make a permanent reduction in the size of the state. Hence also the necessary exaggeration of the dangers of a Greece-like financial destabilisation linked to the size of the fiscal deficit.
6. Another obvious consequence of the discrediting of the model of development with which it made its creative social democratic compromise is that the raison d'être of New Labour has fallen away beneath it, as a new and probably more timid, less self-confident phase of capitalist development gets under way. There is nothing surprising in the right reacting strictly according to the dictates of its shop-worn worldview. But one of the things that the left must be careful of, whether it is the old New Labour centrists or Old Labour in a new disguise, is that it doesn’t do the same—that is, react exclusively and unthinkingly from within the network of its pre-existing ideological and rhetorical reference points. Rather, it must react to create a new political machinery and policy framework that render Labour values appropriate and relevant to the changed national and global situations. Thus the difference for us, for the Labour Party, is that this presents a fresh and exciting opportunity, rather than, as for the right, a dead end, a chance to rerun the glory days of the 1980s, "the second time as farce".
So May 2010 saw a significant defeat for social democratic Labour in one of its incarnations. At the same time, there is now a genuine political opportunity, and, first of all, a genuine chance for a thoroughgoing rethink of what comes next. This is why I choose to read positively Ed Miliband’s alleged slow start as Labour leader (another media narrative that has quickly hardened into cliché) as him having decided to take time to try to reforge both strategy and policies for a new era, just as New Labour did before. I’m especially pleased to see the attempt to rethink policy with the goal of democratising the party still further, in part by eliciting greater input from and involvement of grassroots members, as well as from progressive groups and movements more broadly. If Labour can’t be the most democratic party, pushing the democratic agenda both internally and in society more widely, then it can’t possibly hope to represent effectively the interests of the majority of ordinary working Britons.

Down but not yet out
7.
That said, to double back for a moment, although the economic crisis has raised considerable doubts about the Anglo-Saxon model of global economic development, it would be premature to imagine that it yet augurs the decline or transcendence of capitalism itself. There are good reasons for believing this. First, in many places in the world, capitalist social relations—the dynamic conjoining of private property with market competition, the handle and cord of the whip the drives firms on and keeps them innovating—are still “forms of development”, propelling rapid economic growth and increases in productivity. In the past two decades this has probably lifted hundreds of millions of people out of absolute poverty in large, populous countries such as China, India and Brazil. At the same time, in the advanced economies this arrangement has continued to generate all sorts of interesting technological innovations that are opening up new possibilities for the future all the time.
But its was never the dynamism of capitalism, its ability to force firms to constantly raise the productivity on pain of bankruptcy and extinction, that troubled us: it is its social and environmental destructiveness, the wasteful, uncertain and stunted lives that, even in the rich countries, it imposes on the majority, in part as a corollary of the division of labour, in jobs which, if they have them, are either too demanding physically, leaving little time for the development of a fuller range of human faculties, or too repetitious and undemanding mentally, presenting little challenge or prospect for self-development, leading to disengagement and withdrawal, the coasting through working life on autopilot. The structures which ensure this, the arbitrary and debilitating hierarchies at work just as much as the arbitrary life chances doled out by the underlying socio-economic patterns of property ownership and resource access, are the flip side of the cult of entrepreneurship, the narrow form into which a particular strand of creative human potential is selectively channelled in class society, stultifying and depressing the many so that the few might fly free and live.
Second, despite widespread pessimism on the left in the wake of the fall of the Soviet Union and the understandable phase of capitalist triumphalism that followed, and although some promising new developments are now starting to emerge, the left has not yet come close, as far as I know, to solving the central problem of what kinds of institutional arrangements might serve as the basis for an improved social set up in which a mechanism of innovation could become socially ingrained.
8. One positive long-term result of the fall of the Soviet bloc has been the gradual coming together—still nascent, still tentative—of the two broad sides of the left split asunder by the October Revolution of 1917: roughly, the social democrats and the Marxists. Potentially, this is a very positive development, even if it is unlikely, or desirable, that it leads to the seamless fusion of the two. It shows itself, at least among the more thoughtful elements on each side, as a slow diffusion of political concerns and suggestions in both directions, a focus on common problems, with each arriving at possible workable solutions using reference points from within their own tradition. Signs of this potentially productive cross-fertilisation can be seen in the common language and similar conceptualisations of certain problems and goals by representatives of the two sides. For example, something of this kind can bee seen in the similarity of the approaches of James Purnell, a former Labour minister, and Erik Olin-Wright, an old New Lefter, to the issue of real (as opposed to nominal) freedom, even though Purnell appeals in his analysis to thinkers, such as Tawney and Sen, who come firmly from within the social democratic tradition, whereas Olin-Wright addresses the issue from the perspective of creative and self-critical analytical Marxism. Trends of this kind should recognised and nurtured, as they could be very helpful in negotiating the uncharted waters ahead, now that the twin "inferior mirages" of the Soviet dictatorship and of unrestrained free-market capitalism have disappeared.
9. As a quick aside, I should have thought it obvious, but have not always found it so, that no socialist or social democrat should regret the fall of the Stalinist regimes, and neither should they defend or apologise for their disastrous records, in some sort of inept attempt to keep open a political alternative—any political alternative, no matter how bad—in the face of the encroachment of voracious neo-liberalism. As the societies of the Soviet bloc fell a long way short of socialist ideals of democracy, freedom and even egalitarianism, both in their methods and their results, they are inherently beyond any progressive defence. Indeed, the grim egalitarianism of Soviet life, such as it was, was conditioned by the failure to develop living mechanisms for social, political and, crucially, economic innovation. On the contrary, innovation, and the free and frank exchange of ideas necessary for it, was actively inhibited by the authoritarian political structures necessary, in the absence of a strong self-reproducing ideology of consent, to hold the social form together, to force it to cohere. That is, the so-called state socialist regimes failed even on basic Marxist terms, because the rigid and sclerotic socio-political form prevented the continuous revolutionising of the forces of production that would be necessary to pave the way for freer and more widely creative social form than capitalism. Neither should anyone on the left feel sorry for their passing, as they were an impediment to human progress, a historical blind alley. Of course, this is different from feeling sorry for the people who had to go though the capitalist retransformation of those societies, many of whom experienced it as a catastrophic loss—of income, status, security, purpose.

In the womb of the old society
10.
In the short term, the Labour Party's priority must be to expose the ideological, class character of the government’s cuts agenda, which, masked by the inevitable “we’re all in it together” routine, could yet endanger Britain’s faltering economic recovery. We must also offer a clear, alternative policy approach to the problems of weak growth, a large fiscal deficit and the burgeoning of cost-push inflation internationally that is economically realistic—ie that shows that it grasps the way in which a national capitalist economy really works in an international context. So far, so social democratic.
Over the medium and longer term, however, more promising prospects arise. Drawing on some recent ideas, it is possible to sketch out a broad new strategic road-map for Labour. This approach differs from other sketches I have seen in the press or on left-leaning websites (such as from the centrist Compass organisation, or from so-called conservative social democrats or “Blue Labour” theorists). It adapts to the new, uncertain political territory we are entering, but less defensively, less passively, more positively, more excitingly and with greater ambition than its rivals, by means of a strategy that pursues two apparently contradictory policy paths at once.
The first path would follow policies that are almost as pro-market and pro-globalisation as New Labour (bear with me for a moment), although without shying away from the reforms needed to prevent a rapid repetition of the near-collapse of the financial system that was seen in 2008-09, which could again threaten millions with unemployment and poverty. In this way, state resources available for pursuing the second, more radical path are maximised, using a proven economic tool-kit (albeit one with known, significant limitations), while also pursuing traditional social democratic redistributive goals (which, however, have the drawback of being impermanent and reversible, as we are seeing with the current round of cuts in social welfare and support). In short, in lieu of a good idea of alternative, realistic and proven socio-economic mechanisms that can provide dynamic innovation and poverty-reduction, and which are ready to put to work straight away, at this stage the goal should be to improve the functioning of markets rather than to restrain them, to encourage conditions favourable to rapid economic growth as actively, though perhaps not as credulously, as New Labour. Similarly, it is of both practical and of pragmatic self-interest to remain in favour of globalisation, albeit a globalisation of a different kind than we have seen to date. For example, Labour and the unions should work together to promote vigorously an improvement in working conditions, wages and workers’ rights internationally, not least as a means of protecting living standards at home. We actively want people abroad to be better off, to have greater control over their own lives, but we don't necessarily think that this should be—or even that it is necessary that it should be—achieved at our expense. The aim should be to match the trend towards the ever-freer movement of large-scale capital flows across borders—which has characterised advanced capitalism over the past 20 years, but which was also one of the main factors that almost brought it to its knees—not just with the freer movement of labour, but also with the internationalisation of the labour movement and the “export” of advanced labour legislation and practices. Behind this stance, then, is a dual motivation that is both self-interested and internationalist.
The second path involves a commitment, over time, not just to the redistribution of state funds, but also to substantial and sustained material and practical support for experimental political and economic institution-building. The aim would be to deepen democratic involvement, to address the well-known shortcomings of capitalist production and, ultimately, to develop alternative methods of economic organisation capable of ingraining innovation systematically, within the social structure, so that creative economic opportunity is not in effect restricted to the few. Unhindered by capital restrictions, what we now call “free enterprise” would gradually be made a practical possibility for all, or almost all, with social relations that structure alternative drives and motivations for productive innovation encroaching more and more on the social relations of private property and wage labour, two halves of the socio-economic form currently dominant. This could be conceived as something like R&D investment, but in this case, what is being researched and developed need not be a technology or a product, but rather experimental institutions favouring alternative motivations for dynamic innovation as possible basis for a new, more sustainable, human-centred social form. So, state revenue would be distributed to schools and hospitals—Blair’s essential and, in its way, brilliant, if necessarily temporary compromise—but also to civil society to fund alternative, experimental institutions capable of extending social control over political and economic life, and of undertaking social production based on incentives other than just profit, but with the room to risk failure. I don't see why it couldn't be modelled something along the lines of arts funding, the purpose of which, ideally, is to afford space for the experimental exploration of meaning and beauty without the need to turn a profit, outside of any immediate commercial considerations and constraints. What might such alternative institutions look like? Luckily, a lot of work has been done on this in the past 20 years. To concretise this idea, I shall pinch a couple of examples from Olin-Wright’s recent book, Envisioning Real Utopias, one on deepening political democracy, one on extending economic democracy, as a means to achieving, among other things, what is sometimes called real freedom. [[EXAMPLES TO CHOOSE FROM AND ELABORATE A BIT, to concretise: social economy: wikipedia, Quebec; unconditional basic income; social capitalism; co-operative market econ, mondragon; market socialism; parecon]].
Of course, the choice of goals would have to recognise the political starting points, the processes of production and reproduction of British political culture as it is, which would condition their "sellability".
Thus, although capitalism might not automatically equip its own gravediggers as fast as some of us might hope, we could at least try to ensure that it supplies sufficient taxes to pay for the gravediggers’ advanced vocational training.

Comparative advantage
11.
Unlike New Labour, therefore, the purpose isn’t just a temporary compromise, but rather the construction of viable economic and political alternatives, within the existing systems, to be tested and improved over time so that we may be surer of their effectiveness and durability. It contrasts also with the old left’s statism, in that, rather than emphasising state ownership, it favours public funding to support and develop social ownership, civil society ownership, the dispersal of economic and political power within civil society, heavily backed up by the state. In contrast to the old Marxist left, it does not think that violent revolutionary transformation is necessarily the best terrain on which to conduct the possibly longish phase of democratic economic and political experimentation needed to "unsheathe" or “declass” the “entrepreneurial spirit”—and thus unleash alternative incentives and drives as the basis for economic development—in the advanced capitalist countries, at least. In contrast with the Conservative’s Big Society concept—itself designed to clothe in vaguely centre-left-sounding terms a reactionary policy of reducing social provision—the absorption of economic activities into civil society is not only to be encouraged, but also heavily backed by the state by means of training and funding, perhaps first of all using a number of pilot schemes based on the most promising real examples from historical and contemporary experience.
12. There are several advantages to this approach. First, by synthesising aspects of New and Old Labours in a way that addresses the difficulties promising opportunities in period of regeneration ahead, following a phase of crisis and defeat, it has the potential to unite the two largest parts of the Labour Party. It could also draw the support of the disappointed left-wing of the Liberal Democrats, without scaring them, and appeal to progressive, liberal-left opinion more broadly—the elusive “progressive majority”. This will be necessary to beat the Tories. Second, this is not an attempt to reject Labour’s achievements and its traditional values, but rather to adapt them again to the specific intellectual, ideological and political terrain of the day. However, it is more forward-looking, less cringingly passive, less defeatist, less fearful, less insipid, and more inspirational than some of its alternatives (“conservative” social democracy, “Blue Labour”, Compass). And above all, at the moment Labour needs a broad programme that is credible, inspiring and easy to grasp. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate and angry about living in a country that is still incredibly unequal and wasteful of human potential, and there’s nothing wrong with being utopian, of aiming for the highest peaks of achievement. What’s wrong is if these qualities aren’t tempered with a heavy dose of learning from the past, and with realism, which means having a clear knowledge of your own political culture, of where you are starting from. Lastly, one of the most striking features of the global crisis was the absence of a coherent left-wing response to it. Instead, there was a certain paralysis, or the resort to the safe but windy rhetorical formulas of yesteryear. The approach outlined above could help to be better prepared when the next crisis hits.

13. Some terms in need of definition: neo-liberalism, democracy, socialism, nominal freedom, real freedom, egalitarianism, imperialism, liberal democracy, social democracy.

Heirloom

The escalating drone
of a moped accelerating
some way off
stirs up silence and the night,
thickening the mix,
as the dated woollen curtains
come to rest
on a varnished windowsill:
coffee-brown, with dashed threads
of spicy orange peel, are they still here?
They’ll do for now, we said, on moving in
eight years ago.

Those curtains sealed into a tomb
each Saturday afternoon
of your childhood,
slim panes of blazing summer
dividing the semi-darkness, the vortices
ascending from dad's Old Holborn rolls-ups
as the anthem began for Grandstand
and we joined in boisterously,
returning then to a reverent hush
for the reading of
the line-up card for the 1.15 at Haydock,
bought off with shared offerings—
a bag of dolly mixtures,
peeled prawns in vinegar.

Examining those years
between
thumb and forefinger,
as with a length of worn fabric,
through machine-woven squares
you can still see
their smoky light
shine through.

Wed 9th Feb 2011

Monday, 17 January 2011

Forks in the road

Economic prospects in the CIS in 2011

Main patterns of growth in 2010
A drop in real GDP of almost 6% in the east European transition economies in 2009 was the most severe of the regional recessions of that year. Beginning in the first quarter, however, most of east European economies saw a return to economic growth in 2010, which averaged about 3% for the year. In the main, the recoveries were export-led, with the lagged effects of large international stimulus packages, and in some cases substantial multilateral aid programmes, also playing a role. The pace of growth in domestic demand was generally much weaker, or in some cases remained negative. In particular, investment remained weak, depressed by low levels of business confidence linked to the uncertainty of the macroeconomic outlook, as well as to spare production capacity. In addition, household spending was weighed down by low levels of consumer confidence linked to poor employment prospects, high unemployment, falling or slowing wage growth, high levels of indebtedness, the paucity of credit as banks continued to repair their balance sheets, and a drop in workers' remittances.
Notably, the recoveries in the economies of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) were generally stronger than for regional economies further west. The contrast was starkest between those economies that had been tipped into recession in 2008-09 by a fall in external demand and international commodity prices, and those that, before the crisis, had relied for rapid growth on domestic credit booms fuelled from external borrowing. Some of the bigger countries in the CIS, such as Russia and Ukraine, exemplify the first situation, whereas a number of countries in the Baltics and the south-eastern Balkans exemplify the second. [Some latest growth figures, highs, lows, averages, contrasted with rates before the crisis.] A second contrast with the countries of central-eastern Europe is that, whereas their prospects are bound up with those of the EU, where unfolding sovereign debt crises in peripheral countries have threatened the integrity of the common currency, the crucial relation for many CIS countries is with developments in Russia and Kazakhstan, the leading hydrocarbons-exporting economies within the organisation.
Finally, the political uprisings in the Arabian Peninsula and Arab North Africa may hold mixed economic and political prospects for the authoritarian hydrocarbons producers in the CIS, boosting state resources by pushing up hydrocarbons prices on world markets, while at the same time providing potentially replicable models for political confrontation with authoritarian state apparatuses.

The main, interlinked policy dilemmas
With the recovery having gained purchase, governments are now turning to a number of tough common policy dilemmas. The first weighs fiscal austerity against growth, because of the potential damage of withdrawing budgetary support before economic recovery has become self-sustaining. This concern is accentuated by the expectation of a downturn in global economic growth in 2011, as the boost from the big international stimulus packages fades. Thus, with fiscal and growth imperatives pulling in opposite directions, the benefits of running a loose monetary policy are likely to be cast in a favourable light, at least for a time longer. This is because maintaining liquidity could help to sustain economic activity, both directly, through its impact on domestic demand, and indirectly, by way of aiding the repair of bank balance sheets. This second effect could encourage a return to higher rates of credit growth, which plummeted during in the crisis and which are still well below the rates seen in the boom period. Without this, lower rates of economic growth will remain the norm for longer. However, for some governments, the return of inflationary pressures, both from rising international prices for commodities and food, and, further off, from individual economies as consumption demand begins to revive and spare capacity to dwindle, will create pressures in the opposite direction, pitching the desire to boost economic growth against the need to contain the pace of rise in the general price level. Another policy priority facing some governments across the region, and especially a few of the weaker economies in the CIS, will be the need to pursue policies to maintain external stability in the face of large external deficits and the build up of external debt.

Policy and performance in Russia and Kazakhstan
In both Russia and Kazakhstan, high and rising prices for hydrocarbons internationally, relative to 2009, will continue to sustain economic recovery in 2011. In Russia, the pick-up of consumer demand has been relatively unhindered by an overhang of private debt. In contrast, despite some progress in 2010, in Kazakhstan the inability of households and firms to pay pack loans—aggravated by the depreciation of the tenge that was induced by a sharp fall in inflows of foreign-exchange from the end of 2008 as a result of the global financial crisis—continues to place limits on the lending of the Kazakh banks, as they are forced to raise provisions against non-performing loans (NPLs). Thus, NPLs across the banking sector had risen to 26% in the first half of 2010, according to the IMF. Domestic credit growth in Kazakhstan dropped from a peak of almost 80% year on year in 2006, to just below 7% in both 2009 and 2010, according to the Fund. (In contrast, the peak rate of annual domestic credit growth in Russia was lower, at around 44% in 2007, and it dropped much less steeply, to around 22% in 2010.) This will restrict the speed of growth not only of the domestic economy, but also of its smaller Central Asian neighbours in particular. It should push policymakers in Kazakhstan to keep short-term policy interest rates low for the near future.
Of the two, Russia would thus appear to be in a better position economically to attempt to reduce the fiscal deficit in 2011. The possibly short-term boost to hydrocarbons export earnings as a result of a fresh round of political turmoil in the Middle East, which has stoked market fears over supply, should ease official plans to bring down the fiscal deficit, which reached the equivalent of almost 6% of GDP in 2009. Nonetheless, addressing the underlying problem of a structural non-oil fiscal deficit could remain, or even be discouraged by the same development.
Another important factor to keep an eye on for assessing regional economic prospects is the construction sectors in both countries, which continue to perform poorly, reflecting both excess capacity and a reluctance of the financial sector to lend. Construction is traditionally a large employer of migrant workers from other countries in the CIS and will thus feed into the prospects for a revival of private consumption and some kinds of investment in those states, through the link of remittance returns.

Fiscal consolidation in Central Asia
Fiscal consolidation is required not only as the payoff for any fiscal expansion undertaken during the economic crisis: following events in Greece in the first half of 2010, there is the additional incentive for governments to do so to try to convince international lenders of their fiscal rectitude. The kind of response possible will depend on the resources available. Broadly, just as hydrocarbons exports had allowed some countries to build up funds to draw on to cushion the full impact of the fall in external demand during the recession, so the recovery of oil prices and revenue will afford them greater room for manoeuvre for fiscal consolidation during the recovery. Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan both appear to be aiming for fiscal consolidation in 2011. In practice, in Kazakhstan this is planned to happen not only by means of a reduction of transfers from the NFRK, the sovereign oil wealth fund, but also through the imposition of an export duty and a progressive income tax. In Azerbaijan, overall deficit reduction is planned to go hand in hand with a rise in transfers from SOFAZ, its own oil windfall account, for social and infrastructural programmes, as well as part of the medium-term goal of industrial diversification. On the revenue side, non-oil fiscal consolidation will be hampered by an expected sharp slowdown in economic growth in 2011 linked to a fall in oil production volumes, which will put a dent in the growth of fiscal inflows. Hydrocarbons revenue may discourage necessary structural reforms in Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan.

Saturday, 1 January 2011

My Gypsy Song

Found this old translation of mine of a song by the great Russian bard, Vladimir Vysotsky:

In the dream come yellow lights,
in the dream, I yell till I'm hoarse:
"Hold on! Hold on! It won't seem so bad
once the night has run its course."
Even then, though, nothing seems right:
where is the joy and the laughter?
Either you smoke before breakfast is done
or you drink on the morning after.

In the tavern: green bottles of vodka,
white napkins that have been there an age:
a heaven for jokers and scroungers,
though I feel like a bird in a cage.
In the church, there's a stink: the deacons
are burning incense in the half-light.
No, even in church nothing seems right,
nothing seems right, it's not right.

So I rush before anything happens
up a mountain, in full retreat.
At the top of the mountain an alder stands
and below it, a cherry tree.
If only some ivy had covered the slope
perhaps it would ease my plight;
it's odd, but something is missing…
no, nothing seems right, it's not right.

Then I'm in a field by a riverbank—
light as hell, but of God, not a sign.
In the untouched field of cornflowers
a long road beckons to the horizon.
And along the road is a forest,
it's dense, full of witches and hags,
and there at the end of the road that's long
is a chopping block and an axe.

Somewhere horses are dancing to a beat—
unwillingly, but not without grace.
On the road, nothing seems right—
at the end, it's even more the case.
And not in the church, nor the tavern
is there anything good or divine.
Oh no, it's just not right, my friends,
it's not right, oh friends of mine.

Monday, 1 November 2010

We are Scythians

My wife has told me to get a move on with this book, so I've set myself the deadline of April 28th 2011 to finish it by.

Chapter 23
The brownstone facade of the Historical Museum stretched almost symmetrically along two quiet, sunny backstreets behind Lenin Avenue. Zhenya approached from the direction of the market, having picked up some dried fish to go with her beer that evening. (It was going to be another slow, awkward night at her mother's, she feared, avoiding conflicts, or any possible breakthroughs in communication, in front of a TV cop show—but at least there were only a few days now before she could go home to Britain, thank God.) At the back of her throat a maddening tickle, which she had carried about with her since she'd arrived in town, made her splutter at intervals fitfully, though it was still nice along there, away from the noise of the market. The building itself must once have seemed quite grand in its provincial setting, and may even have been the townhouse of a prosperous factory owner before the revolution, she thought. Now, its pallid-green, mock-Doric plaster columns, which were squeezed in on either side of the corner entrance-way, reminded the visitor of nothing so much as Miss Havisham's ancient wedding cake, as if something important had been irretrievably lost.
It was Independence Day and a small group of cadets from the military academy were milling around the museum’s entrance, eating ice-creams, somehow too timidly. Despite the weather, which was already stifling at that early hour, they were making the most of the holiday atmosphere on what was probably one of the last bursts of summer. They were dressed in dark jackets and white, creasy trousers, like dishevelled naval officers from the nineteenth century.
Zhenya wondered why she'd chosen the place for a visit. She'd never been that interested in the past—not that past, anyway—and she was not a tourist. She was beginning to think she might have picked the wrong day for such an excursion. But she was there now. It gave her a chance to spend more time away from the house—and, you never knew, she might even enjoy it. Along the bottom right-hand wall of the museum, an array of bulbous stone figures, the totemic remains of a previous steppe culture, were rotting away in the sun; three tall, imperious poplars, swaying every now and then only at their heights, lined the pavement in front of them. At the foot of the short flight of steps up to the double front-doors the young woman noticed a worn-out metal boot-scraper, so that the image of a horseman in a white peasant smock, dismounting his steed after a swift ride over the steppe, flared briefly across her consciousness. Then the horseman scraped the mud from his high riding boots before entering the townhouse for a sumptuous dinner at a long, polished table, and Zhenya followed him in.

Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Maternity Ward No. 6

I got stuck on that last chapter: I think it started in the wrong place. In the meantime, here's a short one.

Chapter 21
Lodged in the doorway between the corridor and her ward, Vita looked the agitated stranger up and down.
“My wife,” he said, “how is she?”
He was a short, slightly-built man with greying, unruly hair, aged between 40 and 45. In the dim hallway of Maternity Clinic No. 6, against walls of pale mint-green, Vita could make out the signs of controlled strain on his patchily stubbled face. He had the grin, she thought, of an ingratiating wolf.
With one arm behind her, one on the handle of the ward’s swing-doors, it was as if she thought he might try to force his way in past her. It had been a busy afternoon and she'd been run off her feet (though, because of staff shortages, she’d be on duty for a couple more hours yet), and had only meant to dash out for a drink from the canteen, when the visitor, who was waiting for news on the condition of his pregnant wife, had pounced on her before she'd emerged fully from the ward entrance. A strong whiff of freshly smoked tobacco suffused the fabric of his dark-blue suit. He had on a denim-blue shirt and a grey tie, which he had roughly loosened.
“Look, I’ve been here for two, no, more than three hours, and no one will tell me a thing.” His pale, apprehensive face loomed out of the semi-darkness disconcertingly like an unattached balloon. “Is she alright?" he said. "I came as soon as I heard. You see, she's never been very strong.” Then he tapped nervously on the glass cover of his watch, which looked expensive. “How is she?" he added after a pause. "Can I go in?”
“No visitors at this stage,” replied the nurse, confident in the authority of her white staff coat. “It is not permitted.”
At this, the visitor hopped awkwardly, as if he suddenly felt prickly all over—as if the walls of the hospital had trapped him in a role he was unused to, draining him of his strength. He seemed to wobble between attack and retreat. Finally, the visitor managed to master himself—calculating, perhaps, that a friendly approach on this occasion might be more fruitful. As he prepared for this change of tack, the little man tugged at the woollen lapels of the jacket draped over his shoulders against the chill of the dark corridor, where not even the famous late summer heat of the Black Sea Steppe could penetrate.
“It’s just that she’s not very strong,” he repeated, with greater reticence than before. “With our last child, she was in a lot of pain. The doctor said they were lucky to survive—though both did, thank God.” As he blessed himself, he coughed violently into the clenched fist of his free hand.
“You must let us do our job,” said Vita. “Look, she’ll be fine. We’re just waiting until the contractions become more regular.”
The man nodded, unable to speak through his coughing fit. He pulled a hanky from his inside jacket pocket and phlegmed into it vehemently. For as long as he had been there, he had eaten nothing, drank nothing, and the sly self-assurance of his face, which seemed to have become etched in it, had taken on a waxen translucence. He popped out onto a stairwell to smoke a panatella, blowing the smoke out of a window hatch in a glass wall that looked out over a Spartan car park two stories below, where, on the pavement approach, under the shade of some ailing poplars, motionless invalids in wheelchairs had been parked up, out of the way. On a wall above a notice board beside him, an old cardboard sign read, “Children are the future of the State.” He shuddered, imagining the children of Beslan running through the flames of the burning school-building, mown down in the crossfire (the incident had happened almost a year before). Then he thought about his own children—two boys and a girl, all below the age of eight. Perhaps he would call work. Flicking open a mobile, he was soon back in a world he knew, berating an unfortunate subordinate on the other end.

Monday, 13 September 2010

Up in the air

Chapter 14
Kiev, late summer 2005
The smell of unburnt petrol fumes filled the grimy-white BMW. In the back seat, feeling queasy, Zhenya was on the verge of sharing the observation that she could hardly have guessed, when she’d phoned for a cab that morning, that they were willing to throw in a fairground ride as well.
“Mind if I smoke?” said the driver as they juddered over some tramlines. He reached confidently for a carton of cigarettes in the front pocket of his checkered shirt, anticipating no objection.
“But the car,” spluttered Zhenya, genuinely afraid, “won’t it explode?”
In the rear-view mirror, she saw the driver pull a down-in-the-mouth expression of disappointed resignation, and he hunched his shoulders as if to say “suit yourself”. Since then, he’d been zipping in and out of the lanes of heavy traffic on the long, straight road to Borispil, swerving ever more wildly, ever more recklessly from side to side, coming up short behind a convoy of slow-moving Kamaz trucks, or belting down the wrong side of the road, slipping back into lane just ahead of an oncoming school bus, so that the young woman's hangover, which she'd acquired during an evening spent on a stool at the bar of the Ukraine Hotel, was rocking about in her head like a bag of stones. Then, just before the airport, without saying a word, he'd pulled in to a siding next to a row of silver poplars and Zhenya had tensed up, ready for the worst. But the hollow-faced driver just hopped out of the car and removed the magnetic taxi light from the car roof, got back in and restarted the engine.