Is Northern Ireland’s peace on the rocks?

Belfast – On Sunday morning, prominent Irish politician Gerry Adams woke alone in a cell in Antrim police station. By the following evening, the Sinn Fein president was stepping onto a podium at an election rally at the Devenish Centre, West Belfast as an 800-strong crowd chanted his name.

Adams, who smiled widely, did not look like a man who had spent four nights in police custody. He told cheering supporters that his arrest in connection with the 1972 killing of West Belfast mother of ten Jean McConville was “a sham”, but that Sinn Fein would not be diverted from “the job of building the peace”.

The Good Friday Agreement, signed in 1998, ended the 30-year “Troubles” that cost over 3,000 lives. Since 2007, Sinn Fein, the political wing of the Irish Republican Army (IRA), has shared power with the Democratic Unionist Party in a devolved parliament in Belfast.

Concerns, however, are being raised about the fragility of the peace in Northern Ireland. The murals and flags that line many streets across this country of just 1.8 million attest to on-going tensions between unionists, who favour a political union between Northern Ireland and the Great Britain, and republicans, who want a united Ireland.

Recent months have been particularly difficult. Attacks by republicans opposed to the peace process have been frequent. Early in the New Year, talks in Belfast brokered by US diplomat Richard Haass to resolve issues of the past, parading, and symbols collapsed without a deal.

In February, the devolved power-sharing government stood on the brink of collapse after the revelation that almost 200 republican paramilitaries wanted for crimes committed during the conflict had mistakenly been issued with letters informing them that they were not being sought by UK authorities.

‘The volcano will erupt’

Just last week, Northern Ireland Secretary of State Theresa Villiers ruled out independent reviews into the killing of eleven civilians by British troops at Ballmurphy in 1971 and a 1978 IRA bombing that left twelve people dead

“The problem now is that events are coming along quicker than [the 1998 peace deal at] Stormont can deal with. In the past there were periods of calmness, now there is no time for recovery,” says Jonny Byrne, a lecturer in criminology at the University of Ulster. “It’s like the early signs of Vesuvius, we know the volcano is going to erupt.”

In the past there were periods of calmness, now there is no time for recovery… It’s like the early signs of Vesuvius, we know the volcano is going to erupt.

Jonny Byrne, University of Ulster

International onlookers have wondered aloud whether Northern Ireland might be on the verge of a return to violence. Gary White, a former Police Service of Northern Ireland chief superintendent, says it already has. “Over this last number of years we have had police officers killed, we have had soldiers killed, we have had prison officers killed, we have had many people injured, members of the public, members of the police and other security forces,” White says. “So it is a fact that violence is present in our society.”

An indication of the on-going friction in Northern Ireland came in December 2012. After a vote at Belfast city council to fly the Union flag on designated days rather than all year round, riots broke out in pro-union areas. As streets across the city were blockaded, Belfast effectively came to a standstill.

One of the reasons loyalists, who support the maintenance of the union with Great Britain, are so angry is that they feel they have lost out to republicans in the peace process, says Mark Vinton, a member of the Progressive Unionist Party, which is linked to the paramilitary Ulster Volunteer Force.

Vinton feels that the peace agreement has allowed republicans to further their political goal of Irish unification. Since 1998, Sinn Fein has become the largest nationalist party in Northern Ireland and is growing in popularity south of the border.

“Sinn Fein and republicanism have used the Agreement as a stepping-stone to further their own aims. So basically anybody that you speak to within a working class Unionist or loyalist community will feel massively let down, that it wasn’t an agreement at all, that there were shafted,” says Vinton.

Paying a peace divident?

Loyalists such as Mark Vinton say their communities have never received the much-vaunted “peace dividend” promised by politicians after the 1998 agreement that ushered in the historic power sharing arrangement between Catholics and Protestants.

“If you come into Belfast city centre you will see [it] flourishing,” he says. “But if you take a 10 minute sidestep to either side of North, South, East, West Belfast, you go into working class areas, you will then see the dividend that was meant to pay off peace-wise, has not paid off in those communities, they still live in mass deprivation.”

Ardoyne, a republican area in North Belfast, regularly ranks as one of the most deprived communities in Northern Ireland. Political tensions here have risen in recent months. Just across the “interface” that separates Catholics from Protestants, a loyalist protest has been ongoing since July, when a parade by the Protestant Orange Order was prevented from passing through a nearby nationalist area.

“Negative elements” are trying to manipulate and exploit tensions over flags and other symbols of identity, says Joe Marlay, a community worker in Ardoyne.

But life has changed for the better since the ceasefires, says Marlay, whose father was shot dead by loyalists. “The life I had sort of growing up, is not the life of my sons and daughters have now in our house. We had bullet-proof [glass] on the doors, and some of the windows, we had security gates on the stairs, we had our own security procedures [for] how we lived…. If we were driven to school in the mornings we had to check under the car for devices.”

Ghosts of the past

Nevertheless, fears are growing that demographic and social changes could put further pressure on the gains of peace. The 2012 census found that, for the first time, Protestants do not constitute a majority in Northern Ireland. Formal education is sorely lacking in working-class Protestant areas, and the local economy is still struggling to recover from the global financial crisis.

Mistrust between unionists and republicans continues despite a peace deal signed in 1998 [EPA]

Relations between Sinn Fein and the Democratic Unionist Party, who share power in the devolved assembly at Stormont, are icy and getting colder with each passing week.

“The principles, the goodwill and ethos of the Good Friday Agreement are gone,” says Dr Jonny Byrne.

The Conservative-led coalition government in London has shown little appetite for involving itself in Northern Irish affairs. Prime Minister David Cameron is from a generation of Tories that have little psychological or emotional attachment to a peace process that was the product of Tony Blair and New Labour.

The failure of the British government – and its Irish counterpart – to engage with the situation in Northern Ireland is creating a power vacuum, says Steven McCaffery, editor of Belfast-based investigative websitethe Detail.

“The whole premise of the Good Friday agreement was that it was not an internal solution. There were three legs to the stool: there was London, Dublin and Belfast. The London leg and the Dublin leg have effectively fallen away, so the stool is wobbling.”

With a divided leadership in power at Stormont and growing tensions on the ground, any agreement on the past is likely to remain elusive. This makes the task of creating a shared future after conflict even more difficult.

“We don’t have an agreed narrative of the past from which to try to build an agreed vision of the future,” says Norman Hamilton, former moderator of the Presbyterian Church, which campaigned for decades for an end to the sectarian conflict.

“In order to create the political stability, to create enforced power-sharing, the narrative of the past was set aside in the hope that as an executive assembly delivered real progress on the ground the pain of the past would recede. That hasn’t happened.”

This piece originally appeared on Al Jazeera English.

Protestants go for Gaelic in Northern Ireland

Belfast, Northern Ireland  Seomra ranga – “classroom”, in Ireland’s indigenous language – reads a cardboard sign tacked onto a door. A little further down the hall, a leabharlann is filled with books. It is a very Irish scene, but in a very unlikely place: East Belfast Mission on Newtownards Road.

Across the street, a mural commemorates the Protestant paramilitary Ulster Volunteer Force. Union Jack flags fly from lampposts in the shadow of the shipyards that built the Titanic.

In Northern Ireland, the Irish Gaelic language has traditionally been a largely Catholic pursuit. The overwhelming majority of the 5,000 children in Irish-language education hail from nationalist areas.

But this might be about to change. The Turas Centre in the East Belfast Mission – turas means “journey” in Irish Gaelic  hosts 10 Irish-language classes a week. About 90 percent of those filing in and out of the seomra ranga and reading textbooks in the leabherlann are Protestant.FILE PHOTO OF SCHOOL BOYS PASSING IN FRONT OF A MURAL IN BELFAST.

“The Irish language is part of our culture. It belongs to everyone,” said Linda Ervine, an Irish language development officer at the East Belfast Mission.

I would just call it a bullying session. There were three men and myself. They accused me of diluting ulster Protestantism. I said, ‘Well it depends what your definition of Ulster Protestantism is.’

– Linda Ervine, Irish language development officer

Ervine is the closest East Belfast comes to royalty: loyalist leader David Ervine was her brother-in-law; her husband, Brian, is like his late brother David, a former leader of the Progressive Unionist Party.

From the ancient Gaelic-speaking kingdom

Linda Ervine’s soft voice and gentle manner bely a formidable passion for the Irish language – and for why Northern Ireland’s Protestant community should take it up.

“There is every reason why Protestants should be learning Irish,” she said. “Ninety-five percent of our place names come from Gaelic… We are using words in our language every day that come from the Gaelic language. We are steeped in it.”

On a nearby wall hangs a map of Britain and Ireland turned on its side, showing the ancient Gaelic-speaking kingdom of Dalriada, which spread across the north coast of Ireland and the western isles of Scotland in the late sixth and early seventh centuries.

Most Gaelic speakers in Scotland are Protestant, and when they came to Ireland during the Plantations, they brought their language with them, Ervine explained.

Ervine’s own turas to Irish began three years ago, when the women’s group she was part of at the East Belfast Mission took a starter course in the language. She was bitten by the bug and soon enrolled in an intensive course at an Irish centre in a nearby nationalist area.

Since then, Ervine has been travelling across Northern Ireland giving presentations and talks about the history of Protestantism and the Irish language. “We discovered that in the 1901 and 1911 census, people listed themselves as having Irish here in East Belfast,” she said.

Ervine is not the first figure from a loyalist background to shine a light on the Irish aspect of Ulster Protestant identity.

In the early 1990s, not far from where the Turas Centre sits today, the loyalist Ulster Volunteer Force – responsible for hundreds of killings during the 30-year-long “Troubles – painted a mural on Newtownards Road celebrating the Irish mythological hero Cuchulainn as a defender of Ulster. The Red Hand Commando, a splinter group of the Ulster Volunteer Force, had “Lamh Dearg Abu” (Victory to the Red Hand) as its motto.

Mind your language 

But many unionists have not been sympathetic to Ervine’s efforts to encourage Protestants to embrace Irish.

At a meeting of Down District Council in March, three Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) councillors walked out just minutes before she was due to give a presentation. UUP councillor Walter Lyons said the party “had to make a stand” because the Irish language was being “forced upon” unionists and “used against us”.

Earlier this year, George Chittick, Belfast County Grand Master of the Orange Order, an influential Protestant organisation, issued a “word of warning to Protestants who go learn Irish”. He later said his remarks were aimed at Protestants seeking funding for Irish-language projects – a thinly veiled attack on the Turas Centre.

The Orange Order’s criticism was “very sad”, said Ervine.

“I was invited to speak to the Orange Order shortly after that, and I would just call it a bullying session. There were three men and myself. They accused me of diluting Ulster Protestantism. I said, ‘Well, it depends what your definition of Ulster Protestantism is’.”

Irish has official recognition in Northern Ireland under the 1998 Good Friday Agreement. The peace deal also recognised Ulster Scots, a distinctive dialect spoken by some Protestants. But the Democratic Unionist Party, who share power in a devolved government at Stormont, in Belfast, have blocked subsequent attempts to enact an Irish-language act.

In January, the Council of Europe criticised what it called Stormont’s “hostile” attitude towards Irish. Earlier this month, Irish language speakers marched in Belfast in protest over what they described as Stormont’s “failure” to protect the language.

“The ongoing failure to protect and promote the language in the courts, in public signage and in the education sector continues to unravel the promises made in the Good Friday Agreement,” said Conradh na Gaeilge (The Gaelic League) in a statement.

In spite of government policy, people all over Ireland are choosing Irish medium education. In Belfast, we are seeing a critical mass of kids coming out with Irish.

– Eimear Ní Mhathúna, director of the Cultúrlann centre

Critical mass

Despite government gridlock, Irish is thriving on the ground, said Eimear Ni Mhathuna, director of the Culturlann centre on the Falls Road in West Belfast.

“As we speak, a group from the Shankill [a nearby majority Protestant area] are doing an Irish-language course upstairs,” she told Al Jazeera.

Irish took off in West Belfast in the late 1960s, when a group of Irish-speaking families set up an urban Gaeltacht, the name given to an Irish-speaking area. In 1971, a school called Bunscoil Phobal Feirste began with nine children. Now there are 12 Irish-language primary schools in Belfast.

Colaiste Feirste, a nearby secondary school, has nearly 600 pupils, and St Mary’s College provides teacher training in Irish. Two of Belfast’s last three Lord Mayors – including the incumbent Mairtin O Muilleoir – have been associated with the West Belfast Gaeltacht.

“In spite of government policy, people all over Ireland are choosing Irish medium education,” said Ni Mhathuna. “In Belfast, we are seeing a critical mass of kids coming out with Irish.”

Back in East Belfast, Ervine argued that Northern Ireland’s rich linguistic diversity should be cherished as an opportunity to bring people together, not push them apart.

“As people in Northern Ireland, when we open our mouths we speak beautiful constructions of English, Scots, Scots Gaelic and Irish Gaelic. We are using all those words, all that syntax, because we as a people bring all that together,” Ervine said.

“I am trying to show people that you can’t divide people into these boxes. You can’t say just because someone is Catholic they should speak Gaelic, or because they are a Protestant they should speak Ulster Scots. It just doesn’t work like that.”

This piece originally appeared on Al Jazeera English.

Scots rally for independence from UK

Edinburgh, Scotland – In 1992, on the same evening the Conservatives won a fourth successive UK general election, a small group of campaigners started a vigil for a Scottish Parliament at Calton Hill in Edinburgh.

Their constant watch lasted five and half years, until Scots had a chance to vote “yes” to devolution in 1997.

Thousands returned to Calton Hill last Saturday. This time, however, they came not to demand more powers for Scotland, but to call for full independence from the rest of the United Kingdom.

What unites these people is that all their lives they’ve watched Westminster fail to deliver on the things they care about, whether it’s social justice or the environment or proper democracy.

-James Mackenzie, Scottish Green Party

 

“I’m here because I want Scotland to have the same rights, responsibilities and privileges as any other country in Europe or the world,” one demonstrator, Alan Farquhar, told Al Jazeera, as a colourful crowd of independence supporters, estimated by organisers at 20,000, made its way through Edinburgh’s historic Old Town towards Calton Hill.

Farquhar has been a member of the Scottish National Party for “22, 23 years”. “When I joined the SNP, we were at 9, 10, 11 percent in the polls. There has been a great progression since then: winning a minority election [in the Scottish Parliament in 2007], then a majority election [in 2011]. As far as I see it, independence is a natural progression,” Farquhar said.

Whether or not Scotland does decide to go it alone depends on the outcome of next September’s independence referendum. “A yes vote is for self-government, not remote government – good government with independence, not bad government from Westminster,” Scotland’s First Minister Alex Salmond – leader of the Scottish National Party and very much the architect of next year’s historic vote – told supporters on Calton Hill.

“A yes vote next September will not be a victory for the SNP, or the ‘Yes’ campaign, or even the huge coalition of interests and enthusiasm gathered here today,” he said during the three-hour rally.

“It will be the people’s victory. ‘Yes’ will be an act of self-confidence and self-assertion, which will mean that decisions about what happens in Scotland are always taken by the people who live and work here.”

Colourful rally

Saturday’s rally, which was not organised by the official “Yes” campaign, was a decidedly ecumenical affair.

Alongside SNP banners and standards were men in kilts and William Wallace T-shirts, and there were placards for everyone, from “Farmers for Yes” to “Aussies for Independence”. Supporters of both the Greens and the Scottish Socialist Party, both backers of independence, were out in force, too.

“What unites these people is that all their lives they’ve watched Westminster fail to deliver on the things they care about, whether it’s social justice or the environment or proper democracy,” said James Mackenzie, a member of the Scottish Green Party, who recently started a small business in Edinburgh.

Independence referendum will be held in September 2014 [Peter Geoghegan/Al Jazeera]

“Independent Scotland would be run closer to the people, even simply on a geographical basis. The idea that Westminster is ever going to deliver social justice, sustainability, proper democracy, I just don’t believe it. I’m not saying it’s guaranteed in an independent Scotland, but at least we’d have a chance.”

As the marchers gathered at midday in Edinburgh, a busker played a cover version of Dougie McLean’s Scottish folk ballad “Caledonia”. A little further up the cobbled High Street, a woman with a microphone led a group behind a “Radical Independence Campaign” banner in a call-and-response: “What do we want?” “Independence.” “When do we want it?” “Now”.

“People don’t want more of the same, they want radical change,” Cath Boyd from the left-wing Radical Independence Campaign told Al Jazeera. “We need an economic change and a social change. Internationally, what Britain has come to represent is abhorrent. There is a place for a progressive Scotland with no nuclear weapons, which doesn’t participate in illegal wars,” she said.

Opinion polls suggest many Scots remain to be convinced about the virtues of independence. One poll at the beginning of September gave the “No” side a 30-percent lead, prompting claims from unionists that the battle was all but over. But then the SNP hailed a survey that showed support for a “Yes” vote had taken the lead for the first time since 2011.

Large-scale rallies could help galvanise independence supporters ahead of a crucial 12 months of campaigning, said Peter Lynch, a lecturer in Stirling University and author of SNP: A History of the Scottish National Party.

“Showing to each other how many ‘yes’ supporters there are is good for morale,” he said.

“If you are a ‘yes’ supporter seeing endless polls saying ‘you’re only 30 percent’, oh, ‘you’re only 35 percent’, ‘now you’re down to 25 percent’, you feel like a beleaguered minority that is never going to win. These are the kind of events that make [‘yes’ supporters] see that there are actually a lot of ‘yes’ supporters, and if they can mobilise and grow then they are in with a chance of winning in September next year.”

Reaching out

Not everyone agrees. Tom Gallagher, emeritus professor at Bradford University, said nationalists are not doing enough to reach out to the undecided voters who are likely to decide next year’s referendum.

For the Nationalists, the misery of the people isn’t a wrong to be corrected – it is a chance to be exploited. For them, grievance is not to be addressed – it is to be nurtured.

-Johann Lamont , Scottish Labour Party

 

“The big challenge for ‘Yes’ campaigners is they need to stop dialoguing with themselves. They need to engage with the fears and anxieties that a lot of people have, instead of just brushing them away and saying ‘it’ll be alright on the night,'” the author of Scotland Divided: Ethnic Friction and Christian Crisis said.

Among the Scottish saltires on Saturday were flags from Catalonia, Corsica, Flanders, Sicily, Wales and other nationalist movements across Europe.

Franco Rocchetta, twice a member of the Italian Parliament, was among a group of about 50 supporters of Venetian independence that made the journey from northern Italy to the Scottish capital.

“For us coming here is like swimming in the fountain of youth,” he said. “We are also fighting to get a referendum for independence.”

While Scotland’s independence campaign has garnered foreign admirers, so far it has struggled to attract supporters of the Labour party, once the dominant force in Scottish politics and still the second-largest constituency in the devolved parliament.

Scottish Labour, strongly opposed to independence, is part of Better Together, a cross-party unionist campaign calling for a “No” vote in 2014.

At the weekend, Scottish Labour leader Johann Lamont told attendees at the Labour Party’s annual conference in Brighton that next year’s referendum was a chance to defeat the “virus” of nationalism.

“For the Nationalists, the misery of the people isn’t a wrong to be corrected – it is a chance to be exploited. For them, grievance is not to be addressed – it is to be nurtured,” Lamont told the group.

“And that cynicism, that calculation which leaves families suffering now is a price worth paying if it translates into votes next September. It’s a cynicism which corrodes our politics. It should create in us a revulsion.”

Unsurprisingly, Lamont’s assessment of Scottish nationalism did not resonate with the marchers in Edinburgh. “I feel it’s all inclusive,” said Tarlika Elisabeth Schmitz, who moved to Scotland from Germany 17 years ago.

Schmitz travelled from Lochaber in the Highlands to the capital for the rally. “It’s great to be here,” she said as she walked towards Calton Hill, accompanied by her Scottish terrier, Nechtain, in a blue “Yes” shawl.

“I think we will do it. I am pretty confident we will win.”

This piece originally appeared on Al-Jazeera. 

Croatians divided over EU accession

Zagreb, Croatia – As Croatia prepares for its accession to the European Union on Monday, many in the capital say they are hopeful the move will revive a moribund economy, but others aren’t optimistic ordinary citizens will benefit.

Croatia’s capital recently hosted a volunteer week to encourage people to get involved with groups that assist those in need.

In Strossmayer Park, a band in colourful traditional dress belted out Croatian songs, cheered on by a crowd of about 200 onlookers. Along the park’s well-maintained walkways were wooden stalls belonging to a raft of volunteer-based organisations, from associations representing lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender teenagers, to photography classes for the elderly.

Strossmayer Park, near Zagreb’s centre, is named in honour of Josip Juraj Strossmayer. A prominent 19th century Roman bishop, Strossmayer firmly believed that all the southern Slav nations in Europe should be unified – a dream eventually realised after his death with the creation of Yugoslavia.

I am glad we are joining the European Union, not because I think it is very great, but because I don’t think we have any other options. It would be worse without the European Union.Tajana Stamenkovic, psychology student

In the 1990s, Yugoslavia disintegrated in violence and ethnic conflict, leading to thedeaths of more than 100,000 people, and the displacement of hundreds of thousands of others. The wars also led the the country’s break-up. Now Croatia is set to join once again in a political union, this time not with its Slavic neighbours but its European cousins.

On Monday Croatia becomes the European Union’s 28th member, after two-thirds of Croatians voted “yes” in a referendum on joining the bloc. Among those in Strossmayer Park, opinion was divided on what life in the EU might bring for the Balkan state.

“I am glad we are joining the European Union, not because I think it is very great, but because I don’t think we have any other options. It would be worse without the European Union,” said psychology student Tajana Stamenkovic, a volunteer at an association dedicated to helping young people with behavioural problems.

Young people, many of them jobless graduates for whom volunteering is the only way to gain experience, man most of the stands in Strossmayer Park. In Croatia, unemployment is about 18 percent, according to data released by Eurostat in April. Among the under-25s, more than half are without a job.

Unemployment woes

“You have people with academic degrees, with masters degrees, and they can’t find any work,” said another volunteer, Vanja Pavlovic. “If you want to work you have to volunteer for no money, and after you finish your year of volunteering you have have no job for at least five to 10 years. It’s horrible.”

Like many young Croatians, Pavlovic wants to leave the country to find work abroad.

Dejan Jovic, a lecturer in politics at Zagreb University, described unemployment among the young as “the biggest problem” facing Croatia.

Jovic said he envisages some initial economic challenges as Croatia leaves the Central European Free Trade Agreement (CEFTA) – a trade bloc with various non-EU states, including former Yugoslav republics Serbia, Bosnia, Montenegro and Macedonia.

But he said he believes membership in the European Union will ultimately lead to increased investment, economic growth, and eventually jobs.

A Croatian war veteran holds a sign with pictures of former generals Ante Gotovina (L) and Mladen Markac [AFP]

“In the long term, we hope to be beneficiaries of the new situation, in which it should be easier to become part of a large European market. The main Croatian companies have already prepared themselves for leaving CEFTA. So we expect some initial set-backs in terms of export to these countries, but on the whole the impact will be positive,”Jovic said.

Europe ‘slowing down’

Not everyone is as hopeful about Croatia’s future in the European Union. Mihelin Ninoslav is a former drug addict now volunteering at an outreach programme for people with substance abuse issues. He said he sees little value in Croatian EU membership.

“I am a sceptic,” said Ninoslav. “Young people want a better life in Europe, but Europe is slowing down. It’s not like a couple of years ago. Before I was in favour [of Europe], but not now.”

The ongoing economic crisis in the eurozone is a concern, as is a fear that Croatia, which only became independent in 1991, could lose some of its identity. “It is not for me, Croatia is Croatia, it is not Europe,” said Ninoslav.

But professor Jovic said worries about the country losing its cultural identity are misplaced. “This has not happened to others, and thus it will not to Croatia either. These fears are part of conservative view on what makes ‘national identity’. Basically, this is fear for tradition.”

Croatian support for joining the EU remains reasonably strong. An opinion poll conducted this month found 61 percent in favour of membership. Most people “accept that membership in EU is good for Croatia, since it will mean more freedom, more security, and the end of a complicated transition from the 1990s”, Jovic said.

But he also noted it remains to be seen how the transition will benefit people here. “Research on Euro scepticism in Croatia shows that they are not sure whether they will personally live better or worse, since there is uncertainty over prices and increased competition for jobs. This is the biggest fear some people have.”

Healing the past?

European Union membership could also provide an opportunity to heal some of the festering wounds from the chaos that tore Yugoslavia apart two decades ago. Relations with neighbouring Serbia, with whom Croatia fought a brutal war, remain strained. Ethnic Serbs make up about four percent of Croatia’s population of 4.4 million.

“Croatian accession to the EU will improve the position of Serbs,” said Nataša Kandi, a human rights activist and the founder of the Humanitarian Law Center, an organisation campaigning for reconciliation in the former Yugoslavia.

Minorities will have more mechanisms to exercise their rights, the Serbs to return the property, and Roma will have more access to the public good.Nataša Kandi, founder of the Humanitarian Law Center

The European Union’s legal frameworks will make it easier for the 200,000 ethnic Serbs who were forced to leave their homes in Croatia during the conflict to reclaim property, said Kandi. It will also improve the situation for other minorities who regularly face discrimination, such as the Roma.

“Minorities will have more mechanisms to exercise their rights, the Serbs to return the property, and Roma will have more access to the public good,” said Kandi.

Joining the European Union has been portrayed as a pivotal moment in Croatia’s post-Yugoslav history marking the country’s transition from war and ethnic strife to peace and stability.

But not everyone agrees with this line of thinking. Sreko Horvat is a Croatian philosopher and the director of the Subversive Forum, an annual anti-globalisation, pro-peace conference held in May in Zagreb.

“From this perspective, Croatia is just a part of the Balkans, the mythical space where neighbours just can’t wait to kill and rape each other, and by joining the EU, Croatia will become a ‘stabilised’ and ‘civilised’ country,” said Horvat.

“The problem is, of course, that the EU is already ‘balkanised’. It is enough to look at Switzerland where the mosques are banned, or to France and its protests against gay marriage. Look at Greece where the public TV was just shut down, or Ireland where you even have drones surveilling protesters against the G8. These are the problems Croatia will face soon as well – not to mention even higher unemployment.”

Horvat also expressed concern about a deepening of Croatia’s already-advanced privatisation process. But he said there could be some unintended benefits with greater European integration.

“Maybe the only good thing with Croatia’s entrance to the EU is precisely the possibility of more cooperation between different progressive movements all around Europe, because we are all in this together,” said Horvat.

This piece originally appeared on Al-Jazeera.

Slovenia prepares for summer of discontent

Ljubljana, Slovenia – In Slovenia, few traits are as highly prized as gospodariti, literally the ability to manage finances prudently. Gospodariti was often cited to explain Slovenia’s emergence as an industrial motor of Marshal Tito’s Yugoslav system during the Cold War. As Yugoslavia collapsed in bloody fratricide,gospodariti again came to the rescue, helping a newly independent nation of just two million people to fashion a flourishing economy on the edge of a warzone.

Two decades later Slovenia’s cherished reputation for fiscal rectitude has, like the status of its government bonds, been reduced to junk.

On May 29, the European Commission told Slovenia that its heavily indebted banking system would require an independent review. The same report gave Slovenia until 2015 to bring its budget deficit below the European Union threshold of 3 percent of gross domestic product.
ljubljana-slovenia
The Commission also called on Prime Minister, Alenka Bratusek, to push forward with a package of fiscal proposals announcedlast month. These measures include the sale of fifteen publicly-owned businesses, a 2 percent increase in Value Added Tax (VAT) and the creation of a “bad bank”.

Slovenia appears to have staved off the short-term threat of becoming the sixth Eurozone member to receive a bailout — but everything is far from green in this picturesque Alpine state.

Difficult transition

Ljubljana, Slovenia’s compact capital, is peppered with empty apartment blocks and unused retail units. Across the country, emigration is on the rise. Unemployment, historically low even after communism, stands at over 13 percent. Lack of infrastructure investment has terminally weakened a once powerful manufacturing sector.

Slovenia has twice been in recession since 2009. This year the economy is expected to shrink by around 2 percent. Prospects for growth are “weak even in a quite long medium term horizon,” a leading Slovenian economist who spoke on condition of anonymity, said in Ljubljana, the capital. “We have a contracting domestic sector and an exporting sector that is slowly losing momentum.”

When Slovenia gained its independence in 1991 it was by far the most developed of the former communist economies of Eastern Europe. Tito’s 1974 reforms of Yugoslavia’s socialist system helped open the country up, socially and economically. Taking advantage of its industrial workforce and its location between Central Europe and the Balkans, international companies such as Bayer and Renault built factories in Slovenia.

We are now in the state of shock that Slovenia avoided 20 years ago. Maybe our story is proof that you can’t change systems without a shock.

Primoz Cirman, economics writer,

“We had communism which was not as severe as in other countries,” said Primoz Cirman, an economics writer for Dnevnik, a leading Slovenian newspaper daily newspaper. “The fist was not as iron as it was in other countries, it was more mellow.”

In the early 1990s Slovenia’s first generation of post-independence leaders looked to consolidate the country’s economic strength within its borders, rather than follow the privatisation drive in much of Eastern Europe. “For the first time in our history we were the masters of our own property. We thought ‘let’s not waste it, let’s privatise slowly,” said Cirman.

The roots of Slovenia’s current crisis lie in this uneasy transition from socialism to the free market. Many of Slovenia’s best companies remained in the hands of the state and a new generation of ‘managers’. Many of these managerial executives took out huge loans to buy controlling stakes in the businesses they ran.

Slovenian banks relied on the cheap credit that flowed in the wake of joining the European Union in 20004 and, particularly, the Euro currency three years later to fund these managerial buyouts. When the credit crunch hit in 2008 loans stopped performing.

Attempts by Slovenian bank to plug the gap in their finances by tightening lending to the national economy has contributed to the slowdown in Slovenia but not solved the country’s banking crisis. Its two leading banks, Nova Ljubljanska Banka and Nova Kreditna Banka Maribor, are badly in need of recapitalisation. Last month, Nova Ljubljanska Banka’s Chief Executive Officer Janko Medja said that the bank would transfer €1.3bn ($1.69bn) of non-performing loans to the new “bad” bank.

“Slovenia’s problem was not the (global) economic crisis it was the naivety of the banking sector,” said Igor Luksic, a professor of politics at Ljubljana University and president of the opposition Social Democrats. “There was a great appetite for real estate and the great appetite of managers who wanted to buy their companies. That made the crisis of the banking sector.”

‘State of shock’

The crisis has also laid bare the close connections between business and politics in Slovenia. Earlier this year, Prime Minister, Janez Jansa, was forced to step down after a report from a national anti-corruption agency identified irregularities in his tax returns. Ninety-four per cent of Slovenians consider bribes to be a normal practice in business, according to a recent study by Ernst & Young.

It is not all bad news for Slovenia. At 56 percent, public debt is well below the EU average. The Slovenian banking sector is just 1.6 times GDP. There are some success business stories, especially in technology. But with an export-led economy and a paucity of lending at home, there is no end in sight for the Slovenia’s economic travails, despite Wednesday’s cautious green light from Brussels.

“The economy has collapsed. We have a corrupted political class and a managerial system,” said Franc Trcek, professor of sociology at the University of Ljubljana. “People have said that they have enough. At the same time half of the people will go and vote for the old parties. The other half are in apathy.”

On the streets of Slovenia, apathy has given way to frustration. Last autumn, a series of protests broke out over the decision to introduce speed cameras in Maribor, a once prosperous industrial city near the border with Austria. Thousands took to the streets in what became known as the “Maribor Uprising”.

For the first time since Slovenia’s independence from Yugoslavia in 1991, riot police fired tear gas on its citizens. Maribor’s mayor, Franc Kangler, was forced to step down, but not before the protests had spread across Slovenia, contributing to the downfall of the Jansa government in Ljubljana.

The demonstrations have died down, for now, but journalist Primoz Cirman believes they could reignite again. “The fire is out but the fuel is still there,” he said as a summer shower pours down on the outdoor market on Petkovsek Embankment in Ljubljana.

As for Slovenia, Cirman said that the current crisis shows that the country didn’t manage the transition from communism to capitalism as well as it – and the rest of the world – had thought. “We are now in the state of shock that Slovenia avoided 20 years ago. Maybe our story is proof that you can’t change systems without a shock.”

This piece originally appeared on Al-Jazeera