A house of many mansions

Time to look at pluralism as a plus

PERHAPS the most awkward issue that confronts Mr Zapatero's government is that of regionalism - or is the word nationalism? That very uncertainty gives a clue to the delicacy of the subject. Viewed from Madrid - or Castile, from which both Mr Zapatero and Mr Aznar come - places like Catalonia and the Basque provinces are regions, and their quest for more power is regionalism. Viewed from Barcelona or Bilbao, the local people are nations, and nationalism is the name of the game.

Except it isn't a game. The tension between the centre and the periphery, or parts of it, is constantly felt in almost every aspect of Spanish politics, and for many it is deadly serious. Set aside, for a moment, ETA, the only group prepared to use violence to achieve its end, the creation of a Basque state. Though about 120,000 people are willing to support its now-banned political wing, Batasuna, no democrat is ready to defend its methods, and in this sense it is beyond the pale. But all the other regionalist parties, which can be found from Galicia in the north to the Canaries in the south-west, are more or less reasonable, and certainly non-violent.

Even so, the onlooker watching the Catalan television weatherman talking about rain falling “in the Spanish state” (ie, not in Catalonia), or his sports counterpart hyperventilating because the local rollerskate-hockey team has been accepted as a “national” one by an international federation, may well wonder whether nationalism and a sense of humour are at all compatible. The feelings of fury aroused by diehard Castilians on the other side can be just as absurd. Indeed, most Spaniards will not even contemplate the possibility of some part of the country seceding. For many, that would be treason.

Nothing is simple about Spain's regional politics. The country is federal in many respects, but not formally or symmetrically so and, though it is divided into 17 “autonomous communities”, their rights and responsibilities vary. No wonder. Spain never really was a unitary state, despite Franco's best efforts to make it “Espana, una, libre, grande”. Navarre did not join the parts reconquered in 1492 until 20 years later and, more important, Aragon, Catalonia and the Basques all kept their ancient identities to some degree. The Catalans made bids for independence in the 17th and 18th centuries, and got a good measure of it, three times, in the 20th century. The Basques have long struggled to preserve their language and culture, and have succeeded, to the extent that for centuries Spanish kings would go to Guernica in the Basque country to recognise the fueros (ancient rights) of the Basques.

Not everywhere had a strong regional identity, though the 1978 constitution has created regional demands from places such as Galicia, where many people speak the local language and which now has a nationalist party. Even Andalusia is getting in on the act, asking for a revision of its “statute”, the contract each region has with the central government. And invented regions, such as Cantabria, Madrid and Murcia, are fast changing from purely bureaucratic entities into something more economic and political, even if they make no cultural claims. All this annoys the Basques and Catalans, who feel their uniqueness is being diluted.

To most outsiders, many of these regions now have more powers than they know what to do with - a consequence of the cafe para todos (coffee all round) principle embodied in the 1978 constitution. The Basques have more powers than most, including responsibility for almost all tax-collection (a share of what they collect is handed over to the treasury to pay for foreign affairs, defence and the monarchy) and corresponding rights to spend it (social security is the only significant area outside their control). They even control their own police. Navarre has similar fiscal rights, and Catalonia is not far behind. Yet many clamour for more. What, and why?

Ask that of Josu Jon Imaz, the president of the Basque National Party (PNV), and you get an utterly reasonable answer. The Basques, he explains, are a nation. They want to be recognised as such, to have all the powers they judge necessary to control their own affairs and to take advantage of the rights of representation that now exist in the EU for subnational governments.

So do they want to secede? Goodness gracious no, not now anyway. They do not even want to have a referendum on the question of secession. But they do want one to approve a proposal promoted by Mr Ibarretxe, the PNV premier of the Basque region, which Mr Imaz insists is really about changes to the Basque statute, but which many others describe as a plan for a referendum on self-determination: not a shall-we-secede question, of course, merely a do-we-have-the-right-to-ask-whether-we-should-secede question.

The Ibarretxe plan infuriates most politicians, and both the Socialists and the PP are against it. But some think the fuss is excessive. Miguel Herrero Rodríguez de Minn, for instance, a wise conservative who helped write the 1978 constitution, sees the plan as “a point of equilibrium”, which keeps the Basques' essential links with the Spanish state while giving them greater recognition as a people.

The premier of Catalonia, Pasqual Maragall, also wants a revision of Catalonia's statute, though as a Socialist, not a nationalist, he makes more modest demands. He would like more powers for Catalonia (over tax-collection, for example) and changes to the national Senate to make it more of a regional body. He would also like Catalonia to get in on the European act, greater recognition of Catalan as a language, the right of Catalonia to have its own court of final appeal for certain cases and so on. Strictly no talk of self-determination, though.

Yet critics wonder whether this will always be so, and with some cause. Enter into discourse with regional politicians and you encounter, on the one hand, apparently reasonable demands for greater control over this or that and, at the same time, increasingly abstract discussions about the need for recognition, a “free state associated with Spain”, sovereignty, self-government (as distinct from independence) and a variety of other notions that mean different things to different people, and sometimes different things on different occasions to the same people. Moreover, the more the nationalists extract from the centre, the more local voters show their gratitude by voting for them.

Insatiable

For this reason, the critics may well be right to say that nationalists are never satisfied: give in to their first requests and they never say thank-you and dissolve their party. Instead, they come forward with new demands. This is what Gustavo de Arstegui y San Romn, a PP member of the central government from the Basque country, calls the “syndrome of revindication ” - -the nationalists' constant redefinition of their objectives in more extreme ways, coupled with a rewriting of history to keep alive the memory of old injustices. It is as familiar in Quebec as it is in Spain.

So are the charges and counter-charges that pass between centre and periphery. In Madrid, the visitor is told dark tales of what goes on in Catalonia and the Basque country. University teachers in Barcelona can lecture in English or Catalan, but not Spanish, it is said. If Catalonia were independent, the Council of Europe would find it in contravention of its duties to its Castilian-speaking minority. After over 25 years of PNV government (sometimes in coalition) in the Basque country, patronage is so rife that non-nationalists stand little chance of preferment. That is one reason why 300,000 people have left. And of those who stay to work, many prefer to live outside the region and bring up their families not just in relative safety but in an atmosphere free from nationalist political correctness. As for the nuttiest Basque ideologues, what other bunch since the Nazis has made such a fuss of blood groups, skull sizes and racial purity?

For their part, nationalists point out that their languages are as Spanish as Castilian, so why shouldn't they be allowed to use them in the supposedly regional chamber, the Senate? Why is it impossible to take a train, let alone a high-speed one, from Barcelona to Bilbao? (Answer, because the country has been developed on a Madrid-centred hub-and-spoke principle.) Why has there been no dispersion of national bodies round the country, except for one judicial training school to Barcelona? Why is even the Valencia-to-Majorca shipping company headquartered in Madrid? Why did the PP start flying a huge national flag in the Plaza de Coln in Madrid, with soldiers constantly saluting it, if not to annoy the regions?

Whatever the merits of these charges, one or two facts do stand out. The first is that no official figures are available to show which regions are net contributors to the public purse, and which are net beneficiaries. Yet any changes to the regions' political powers must take place within a financial system that guarantees a minimum standard of universal benefits throughout the country.

Spain is fortunate: it has no huge area of relative poverty, like Germany's east or Italy's Mezzogiorno. But some parts, such as Andalusia and Extremadura, are not well off, and it is the richer parts, notably Catalonia and the Basque region, that are most vigorous in demanding ever more control over tax and spending. It is already said that the Basques pay little or nothing in net terms to help the others; the only net contributors, it seems, are Catalonia, Madrid and the Balearic islands.

The danger is that further devolution will make the poor poorer. Mr Zapatero's economic team thinks the regions should contribute to the kitty according to their income, and receive according to their population. Whether this is the best principle should be a matter for negotiation, but a clear and simple system of regional finance is needed, which would show exactly how much each region transfers to and from the central government. Some form of equalisation could then ensue.

Second, Mr Aznar's war against ETA has left it severely weakened. Whether this makes it more or less intransigent is open to debate, but the moment is opportune for it to declare a ceasefire. Terror, as a weapon, has never been more unpopular in Spain. Moreover, the new government is more flexible than its predecessor, though it too is sternly opposed to anything to do with ETA: it went to court last month to prevent Herritarren Zerrenda from contesting the European elections, successfully arguing that this new party was Batasuna in a different guise.

Third, ETA's campaign of murder and intimidation has had a much bigger effect on the Basque country than is commonly realised. To watch the promenaders strolling by the beach in San Sebastin on a spring evening makes this seem the most delightful of towns. The locals say that, whether in terms of health care or the quality of the roads, life in the Basque region is unmatched elsewhere in Spain. Yet, now that Northern Ireland is quieter, there is no other place in Europe where 40,000 officials, magistrates, businessmen, politicians and journalists live in fear of assassination. Perhaps 2,000 or 3,000 are judged to need bodyguards.

Fourth, however defined, nationalism is not going away. Though the combined vote for the conservatives and the Socialists has increased at every election over the past 15 years, from 65% of the total in 1979 to 80% in 2004, nationalists still control the Basque region, and their counterparts are gaining ground elsewhere. True, they have lost control in Catalonia, but the Socialists in charge there now are strongly regional in their outlook, and rule Catalonia in coalition with a nationalist group whose parliamentary strength increased from one to eight in the March election.

So Mr Zapatero is in hock to the Catalan Socialists, who are in turn in hock to a bunch of fiery left-wing nationalists. Even if he were inclined to do nothing, he would find the pressure difficult to resist. As it is, he is committed to some minor but sensible changes to the Senate, reform of certain statutes and a role for the regions in some EU deliberations. But he knows this is awkward stuff which could prove time-consuming in parliament.

All the signs are that Mr Zapatero will give as little as possible to the Basques. He shows no sign of yielding in his opposition to the Ibarretxe plan, and Juan Fernando Lpez Aguilar, his bright young justice minister, says firmly, “The Socialist Party will never accept self-determination for any part of Spain.” The Socialists point out that constitutional change needs the agreement of other parties, including the PP.

Why not call their bluff?

In time, though, it would be refreshing to see a Spanish prime minister challenging the nationalists to face the consequences of their demands. Instead of flatly ruling out self-determination on constitutional grounds, he could say, “All right, let's settle the terms on which you could secede and then we'll see whether you really want to do it.” Something like this lay behind the Clarity Act that Canada passed in 2000 to deal with Quebec's constant demands for “sovereignty”. It helped there, and could help in Spain. Opinion polls suggest that barely a quarter of Basques are diehard secessionists; a study by the BBVA, the big local bank, suggests they would be much less well off on their own. And the Catalans clearly have no wish to depart.

On the other hand, many people in the regions have a completely understandable desire to be ruled with a more sensitive hand from Madrid, to promote their language and culture and to enjoy a degree of self-rule. And if, perchance, one day the Basques, say, did vote to peel off, would it be the end of the world? Who wants to keep captive within their borders a people who want to leave?

Article forms part of a survey of Spain in this issue of The Economist