Yesterday was an interesting day. Workers' rights leaders called for a general strike, the first in eight years in Spain, to protest austerity measures called for by Spain's Prime Minister, Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero. Zapatero had called for the measures--basically a 5% pay cut for civil servants, and a 15% pay cut for government ministers, with a hanging threat/risk/fear of raising the obligatory retirement age to 67 (it stands now at 65)--in an effort to combat Spain's crippled economy, which has the highest unemployment in the EU and significant problems with debt obligations and the like. (This is kind of boring stuff to anyone, I would guess, who wasn't an economics major. I'll speak very generally about this, but if you'd like more of a frame of reference, you can refer to a very good summary on this NYT page, or to this interview with the two union leaders who organized the strike, from Tuesday's leading Spanish daily [it's in English].)
This strike, all along planned for 9/29, was announced way back in June, a long-planned effort by two prominent labor unions to organize critical mass to make a statement about this. Emily and I, however, hadn't heard about the strike until Emily's teacher reminded her the buses would be on "bank holiday" hours; this was not a targeted strike--teachers or nurses protesting their lack of contract, for instance--but rather an effort to get as many working people, of any industry, onto the streets as possible. Some of you, perhaps if you've ever traveled through Europe, already know that when Europeans strike and/or take to the streets in protest, they mean business. Though there wasn't any evidence of the strike in Raxó, Emily had to miss class because of it (the earliest bus was canceled, and she couldn't have gotten to school before more than half the day was gone), and airports/trains/bus terminals all across Spain, from what we gathered on the news, were all scenes of disorganized chaos.
I'm not sure what side of the political issue to stand on here; my natural sympathies always stand with workers, though I've seen enough selfishness and manipulation on the part of organized labor leaders (a lot of it through personal experience) that I don't really trust them anymore than I do elected politicians. In a sense it isn't my fight at all--I'm not likely to ever benefit from Spain's generous social state--so I hesitate to really opine much. Though I find it very difficult to comment here with an informed opinion--it's difficult enough, after all, to keep informed and filter through the truth and the lies in American politics, much less Spain's--I had some visceral reactions to the strike that I don't really ever feel in the United States. On a simplistic level, I was very excited and proud to see such a strong, organized display by working people across the country. It is the kind of people-driven movement, one with actual tangible results, that is all too rare in the United States. (Sorry, a bunch of uninformed, grumpy people protesting their tax rate and accusing Obama of being born in another country does not qualify as a "strong, organized display" in my book, whether or not they call themselves a "Party.") I would love to see Americans take to the streets one-tenth of as much as they complain at work or on their blogs (oops, I'm doing that right now!), or start worthless Facebook groups to see which polarized opinion of Sarah Palin can reach one million followers first. Discourse in America, I guess I'm trying to say, strikes me as much more narcissistic than it is in Europe, but also, ultimately, much more narcissistic than it is anything else--that is to say, people have less of a sincere care for the issues they are ostensibly debating than they do a concern for how their opinion will make them look, and what social, moral, and intellectual circles those opinions invite them into. A lot of these feelings are what have made me, in the last year and a half, far less (personally) invested in politics, and reminded me to focus my energies in constructive arenas. Nevertheless, it's nice to see that political action can still be, seemingly, about actual measures to prevent/inspire real changes, in things that tangibly effect people's lives.
My family here, for their part, seem fairly uninterested in politics. In the times that politics have come up since I've been here, they have all, to a person, agreed that all politicians are the same, regardless of party or promises, and I'll bet you didn't need me to tell you that their opinion of them defaults to negative. (Incidentally, I have to add, since I found it so funny, all of my family here was under the assumption that 100% of America, basically, was in a state of pure, unadulterated joy when Obama was elected. When I informed them that very much the contrary was true, and that today more than half the country is pretty feverishly anti-Obama, they all responded with puzzled looks and surprise. "That's not how it's presented here," I've been told on several occasions. Seems that the cult of Obama is not merely an American phenomenon.) When Emily asked Manolo what he thought the greatest social and governmental problems were in Spain, he listed a long, carefully thought list of problems, but I noticed that he left off the economy; when I reminded him of that, he stopped himself and said "Yes, ultimately it's the economy, because that is the root of all the other problems." All I can say to that is that I hope in the rest of the year I am here I can watch Spain rise out of these difficult times. Regardless, it seems like Zapatero may need to start looking for a new job ahead of elections.
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