Sala Radio

I’m glad to report on a great Syrian shop (with everything you could expect from such a shop – not least the glorious smell as you enter) in the Matache area just 10 minutes walk from the flat at Piata Victoreii – just before the corner which takes you to Sala Radio (equivalent of BBC) quite a salubrious area amongst the general squalour of Matache. I emerged with my rucksack laden.
Daniela had reported from the radio special prices for their CDs – instead of which we were taken in a very knowledgeable pensioned group on a tour around the studios! One of the two 2 lady guides was so bowled over with having a foreigner to chaperone that she arranged for a dungeon to be opened in the PR Office to make sure I could buy some CDs! The Studios are celebrating their 82nd anniversary – and the Enescu disc I am listening to is a 1951 recording of some of his pieces under his baton! Quite incredible! This city could grow on me! And I’ve just noticed that they have a special station devoted to Romanian villages . It’s some years since we attended one of their live concerts – and they have a good chamber performance tomorrow evening – so I’ve made a promise!
On the way back, we also hit an interesting Indian/Turkish tea/coffee house – with Nargilae. Thank goodness, political correctness has not hit this place!
As I listen to Enescu, I am preparing with the lamb (so rare to find here) one of my Indian specialities. Already, in my enthusiasm, I have overspiced it – with the green thyme powder and garam marsala powders I so seldom get a chance to use. So I have hurriedly added raw carrot and potato slices before She Who Has To Be Obeyed arrives back from Obor market and spots the excess!
It’s important I clarify why yesterday’s blow-by-blow account of the interrogation at the Beijing police station is so important (for me). Abstract discussions are fine – but what counts is being able to challenge individual behaviour and conversations. That’s why my post last month about the falsity of the Statement of Interests entry of the young Romanian high-flier State Secretary was, for me, so important. Why can’t pensioners everywhere track such things???????

A brave lawyer

Lawyers generally get a poor press - so I am pleased to pay tribute to those Chinese lawyers who, for the past decade, have been the vanguard of the struggle for rule of law in that country. Reading of individuals who risk everything by standing up for the right of ordinary people to be treated with respect and decency (by the forces of authority) always brings tears to my eyes. It's one reason why I admire Criag Murray - whose Murder in Samarkand should be on the required reading list of all soial science students. And I had been appalled by reading of the treatment of the blind lawyer Chen Guagcheng who made so enemies by his taking municipal authorities to court for the way in which they dispossed villagers of their homes to allow the authorities to sell the land for property development. The clear (if slow and reluctant) progress China is making in building rule of law is due to such individuals.
Recently, prominent human rights lawyer Pu Zhiqiang had a verbal exchange with Dong Yansheng, deputy director of Fengtai Section of Domestic Security Department of Beijing Public Security Bureau, when Pu was detained following the Nobel Peace Prize announcement. The following transcript is taken from Pu Zhiqiang’s tweets describing the incident. Pu Zhiqiang is a lawyer at the Beijing Huayi Law Firm who takes on many civil rights cases. He was a student leader in the 1989 protests and is a close friend of Liu Xiaobo’s. This is an incredibly brave initiative.

Translated by China Digital Times:
On October 10, Dong Yansheng dispatched Wang Yigang, a police officer from Fengtai Section Of Domestic Security Department of Beijing Public Security Bureau, to take me away and detain me. Wang Yigang apologized for his brutality on the spot, but they detained me in Fanjiacun Police Station, and I quarreled until one o’clock in the early morning. I refused to promise not to receive media interviews, and invited People’s Daily, Xinhua News Agency and Global Times to interview me about the Nobel Peace Prize Award, so I was lucky to be “triple-accompanied” [Editor’s note: slang for being escorted, in this case under tight police surveillance] for three days in Zhouyang Hotel which is near the Sanhuan New Plaza. Last night I was released and went home, but was still not allowed to turn on my cell phone. Today I came to Yichun city to handle Feng Yongming’s case, under surveillance. Thanks for the care and attention from friends; I will give a more detailed account of what has happened later on.
Deputy Director Dong Yansheng brusquely said, “Liu Xiaobo won that award, what’s the big deal? Look at you Pu Zhiqiang. You jump around all excited, like you are drugged. I tell you, granting the award to Liu Xiaobo is the action of the western anti-China forces’ conspiracy to subvert the Chinese government. And you people receive foreign media interviews, which is assisting the western anti-China forces to subvert the Chinese government!”

I answered Dong Yansheng: “Awarding Liu Xiaobo is the mainstream civilization’s [the world’s] acknowledgment of his peaceful, non-violent efforts. Such good news cannot be hidden or suppressed, and I am excited and send Xiaobo and his wife my best greetings. The Chinese Communist Party needs to learn how to face the fact that the Nobel Peace Prize Award winner is sitting in a dark jail in China. Hu Jintao and Wen Jiabao don’t know what to do about this, so it’s time to lift the media censorship, pave a way for the whole society to reach a consensus, and move forward. You are acting blindly and this will just further tarnish the image of your party bosses.”

I corrected Dong Yansheng: “You were talking about the anti-China forces’ attempt to subvert the Chinese government, but such nonsense only reflects you’re outdated and shallow, like you are stuck in the 1980s. Your remarks went against the lines marked by Wen Jiabao in his recent speeches and that of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. See, only Ma Zhaoxu (MFA spokesman) dared to criticize the Nobel Prize Award Committee for blaspheming against the award; how come such a low official like you dares to make such a blunt speech to create enemies for the Hu administration? I am asking you to show me, where are the anti-China forces from the west?

Dong Yansheng pointed at my nose and said: “You denounce the Chinese Communist Party, so you are making yourself a target for attack by the public security authority. I am now officially informing you, you are subject to my control [管制]. Where I want you to go, you need to go. When I want you to leave, you need to leave!” I started to educate him: “Control [管制] is a criminal punishment and is only decided by a court verdict. You are law illiterate, not even qualified to speak! The government deserves to be vilified, and so long as I am not breaking the law I can use my own devices. But you need to have procedures otherwise you are violating the law.”
Dong Yansheng put a label on me: “ Pu Zhiqiang, you are a f**king traitor and running dog for the western countries. You received foreign media interviews, just like Liu Xiaobo, you are a damn f**king traitor to your motherland!” I asked him: “ Who is a running dog? Who is betraying his country? We both know very well in our hearts. You said I am a traitor, but could you explain to me who sold out the country? Who marked the new boundaries between China and India? Do you know which rank is qualified to sell his country?”
Dong Yansheng laughed and said: “You must have made quite good money, eh? Bought a new house? You’d better move the hell out of my turf, you are driving me mad!” I replied, quite frankly, “Yes, I made good money , bought another house. But when I move, I will pray you are promoted to head the security troop in the district I am about to move into. I will find out which district you are about to be assigned to, and I will definitely buy a house and transfer my residence file to that district. We are familiar with each other, so I will glue myself to you until you have to peel off your dirty police uniform and lose your job!”
Dong Yansheng said:”Tell me how you allied with Liu Xiaobo to conspire to draft Charter 08. Have you changed your attitude?” “You interrogated me on this issue last spring,” I responded. “Today you dragged me here afraid I will receive media interviews. So this topic is irrelevant to your duty today, and I need not answer your questions in this regard. But I tell you, I am just one of the signatories and I didn’t participate in the drafting. I don’t have the research skills or level of theory. You go home and take a good look at the Charter 08, and find out how similar it is to the values that the Chinese Communist Party tried to sell during the 1930s at Yan’an [when the CCP gathered in the Yan’an revolutionary base and prepared themselves to fight the Kuomintang government]. Charter 08 is not reactionary, don’t you understand? ”
I bragged to Dong Yansheng: “My friend Xiao Shu is a famous guy. He compiled all the beautiful words the Communist Party used in an attempt to flatter the Americans when it was trying to overthrow the Kuomintang dictatorship in the 1940s, including many pieces from Xinhua Daily commentaries and official top leaders’ speeches, and published a book titled “Pioneering Voices in History.” But, it was banned by the authorities. Why? Seems the CCP still has a sense of shame. But why did people like you take on the duty and become bloody shameless?”
Dong Yansheng said : “Don’t make yourself believe I have no way to deal with you. I am telling you, the CCP has measures to take care of traitors like you! When you went back and forth to Shijiazhuang city, we carefully recorded all the details, where you went, who you talked to. Sooner or later, we will get you for this! Tell us where you went the other day, whom you met, and what you discussed!”
“I don’t remember,” I responded. “You’ve taken such good notes, so why bother asking me again?” “I want YOU to tell me!” “I just won’t, what are you going to do to me?”
Dong Shansheng and Wang Yigang have both asked me: “Hey, why did Norway give the award to Liu Xiaobo? How much money will that award bring then? He has no way to go abroad, who will go to help him pick up the award then? How will you folks split the money? You’re all so greedy.” I answered: “Those five old men, they are free from government control, they can give the money to whomever they want to, and this year, they decided to grant the award to this big ‘stammerer’.” [Editor’s note: Liu Xiaobo stammers and his friends joke him about this]. Also a man like Liu Xiaobo, he can keep his cool on things like this. This is called going down in history, you understand?”
At six o’clock in the evening, the domestic security officers dragged me to the public security station, and Dong Yansheng arrived soon after. I was still in a bad mood: “Your men broke the law!” “Here you go again! What did they do to break the law? Whatever we do to you will never be understood as violating the law. We are taking out a summons against you according to the law! We have power, we can take out a summons on you whenever we want!” “Where is your legal procedure then? Do you have it?” “Oral authorization! I tell you, we have all the authorization we need! Procedure is easy!” “Easy? Then why can’t you show it to me?”

Dong Yangsheng coaxed me, showing tough mercy: “Making money is good, isn’t it?” he said. “With such good conditions and so much space, all of us in the system have actually given you a lot of face. Do you really believe you grew so successful solely on your own?”
I yield to neither coercion or persuasion. I said: “Money is good, but how much is enough? I have never gotten favors from anybody, I made my success because of my own efforts.” I heard Wang Yigang exhale loudly, so I turned around, stared at him, saying: ”What’s up? You don’t agree? Do you believe if you take off your uniform, you are nothing?
I also tried to persuade him: ”You haven’t made good money but have developed quite a lot of faults. You deserve to be made a scapegoat. You’re running around blindly but never know what you are running after, and you are not allowed to ask. Why do you have to jump up and down like this? What’s the reward? I know in your system, there is no place for reasoning, but do you want to be promoted? I can give you some tips. Old Dong, you are a deputy director, if you want to become the chief, the only shortcut is to hire two murderers to kill the incumbent chief.”
I complained to Old Dong that Wang Yigang had injured my left shoulder, but he tried to protect his team by playing dumb. He said: “If you are embarrassed to cooperate with us, you should just be flexible. Don’t strike back when they are trying to catch you. If you hit back, they no doubt have to use force. Hey you,” he shouted at his team buddies. “If Old Pu resists again, you should do the same thing again!”
I tried to change the topic by saying. “Once again, today you acted in bad faith. You spent three hours asking for orders from your superiors but still failed. You tell me do you really have authority or you are also just a running dog?”
By October 11th, I was notified that one of my cases would open trial in Yichun City. That afternoon, Dong came. “You have a court hearing to go to?” he asked. “Yes.” “They sent you a summons?” “No, they didn’t.” “No? Then how did you know it?” “My colleagues told me.” “How did they pass you the information?” “ Via email.” He put on a long face, “You used the Internet? Who approved you to use the Internet?” I got angry: “I did use the Internet! So what? Did I break the law? Who said I couldn’t use the Internet? It’s you who broke the law and I am going to write all of this down and make it public!” “Absolutely don’t write it now!” “Then fine, I will write it right after I am freed! ”
Following the quarrel on October 11th, Dong started to have a heart-to-heart chat: “Just between us, I am here for your own good, to let you reflect and do thought work on you; this is still based on your rescue.” “Thank you so much! The relationship between the CCP and me should be categorized as enemy contradiction, but you are handling it as an internal conflict. On the other hand, any problems that surface among the people in this country should fall into internal conflicts while you police handle them as enemies. Since when did you police officers start to manage people’s thoughts? You want to manage my thoughts? You must be joking. There is only one guy surnamed Dong who could do this, but he was bombed to hell a long time ago. [Editor’s note: In the CCP’s revolutionary history textbook, a PLA solder named Dong Cunrui was commemorated as a model of selfless sacrifice, after he lost his life in a battle against the Kuomingtang military.]

On October 10th, Dong was feeling magnificent. “You listen to me!” he said. “I tell you, you should be clear about the current situation and don’t brag to me!” “It’s you who are talking big! “ I interrupted. “Remember,” I said, “ I am f***in awesome! I bet you dare not use force on me, nor is it necessary to use forced interrogation, because I have made my actions and behavior extremely clear to you. So let’s see what are you going to do? You don’t even have legal authorization, but have bullied me, and you dare to talk big with me?!”
By 5:30pm, October 11th afternoon, Old Dong stood up and said : “OK, you can go on your business trip now. Have a good trip but don’t receive media interviews!” “On a specific topic or on everything?” I asked. “On the case of Liu Xiaobo!” he said. “No, I cannot agree,” I responded. “If you dare to talk to the media…” he said, but I once again stopped him by asking, “Then what? You will run to the northeast to arrest me?” “You will pay as soon as you get back!” he responded. “Nonsense,” I said. “All you can do is “triple-accompany” me, anything else? How will I pay? Hah, Old Dong, your words can be really tough!”
“I won’t waste my damn time talking with you,” he said.

UPDATED TRANSLATION
I just refreshed my memory, the second half of the conversation with Dong Yansheng was on the afternoon of October 12th, not 11th, sorry. Actually he is not a bad man. He is from the background of criminal police and good at what he does, and basically kind to his buddies and even enemies like me. It is not easy to be in the domestic security police force. He is just in the role of a police officer, so he and I always clash. Once he overcomes his own mental block, I believe we eventually will be friends.
The painting is a 16th Century Dutch painting of The Lawyer's Office

wine, women and books

The Saturday weekend clean-up drove me out of the apartment – and I went to check first what refrigerators (what a word!) are on offer which can actually fit our tiny flat (no more than 56 centrimetres across to get into the small verandah) - and picked up some lovely (purple) Turkish figs at a nearby market. The greenish/white figs I found growing on the Baku tress transformed my attitude to that fruit. And I also managed to find some Iran dates – which are so easy to find in Sofia. Hope to use them for my red cabbage recipe. The next step was to check the quality of the wine (a very challenging task!) on offer in the Matache area – a rather down and out part of the city very near the Gara de Nord where there are several shops which have barrels of wine fot tasting from several different wine areas – the best are Dealul Mare and Recas.
The first Degustare I visited specialises in the first area (Urlati to be precise)– and they offered me both red and white Pelin. Reluctantly I agreed to taste the red – I had been a devotee of this quasi-Vermouth when I first tasted its white version in Bulgaria but have subsequently gone off it. But the Romanian red variety is actually very tasty. I was also persuaded to buy 2 litres of Feteasca Alba and Cabernet Sauvigon but was not quite convinced I had quite the same quality as the wine cellar in Rasnov offers so I went round the corner to the Recas (on Danube) shop and found a superb Riesling-Pinot Gris mixture – all for less than 2 euros litre.
My recent writing efforts have been interrupted by hilarious gusts of laughter (and unsolicited translations) from my partner who bought an EM Cioran book a couple of days ago as we were waiting for the dreadful Russian film on Beria. Cioran, although born in rural Romania, lived in Paris all his adult life in cultivated poverty wrote disjointed pessimistic and absurdist epithets which you enjoy, I am assured, by not taking them seriously. Here, for me, is a typical one -

"I seem to myself, among civilized men, an intruder, a troglodyte enamored of decrepitude, plunged into subversive prayers."

I am told that this is not typical – so, from the 151 Cioran quotes available on internet, let me offer another

"Never to have occasion to take a position, to make up one's mind, or to define oneself - there is no wish I make more often."

I prefer the verse of Marin Sorescu – whose Asking Too Much is one of my favourite poems. Thanks to Michael Hamburger and the Poetry Foundation, here it is

Suppose that, to give a few lectures,
daily you had to commute
between Heaven and Hell:
what would you take with you?’

‘A book, a bottle of wine and a woman, Lord.
Is that asking too much?’

‘Too much. We’ll cross out the woman,
she would involve you in conversations,
put ideas into your head,
and your preparation would suffer.’

‘I beseech you, cross out the book,
I’ll write it myself, Lord, if only
I have the bottle of wine and the woman.
That’s my wish and my need. Is it too much?’

‘You’re asking too much.
What, supposing that daily,
to give a few lectures, you had
to commute between Heaven and Hell, would
you take with you?’

‘A bottle of wine and a woman,
if I may make so free.’
‘That’s what you wanted before, don’t be obstinate,
it’s too much, as you know. We’ll cross out the woman.’

‘What do you have against her, why do you persecute her?
Cross out the bottle rather,
wine weakens me, almost leaves me unable
to draw from my loved one’s eyes
inspiration for those lectures.’

Silence, for minutes
or an eternity.
Respite. In which to forget.

‘Well, suppose that to give
a few lectures you had to commute
daily between Heaven and Hell:
what would you take with you?’

‘A woman, Lord, if I may make so free.’
‘You’re asking too much, we’ll cross out the woman.’
‘In that case cross out the lectures rather,
cross out Hell and Heaven for me,
it’s either all or nothing.
Useless and vain my commuting would be between Heaven
and Hell.
How could I even begin to frighten and awe
those poor creatures in Hell -
without teaching aid, the woman?
How strengthen the faith of the righteous in Heaven -
without the book’s exegesis?
How endure all the differences
in temperature, light and pressure
between Heaven and Hell
if I have no wine
on the way
to give me a bit of courage?’

Opportunistic theory of change

I left the mid-October discussion about public sector reform in transition countries rather hanging in the air. It was triggered by a review of Tom Gallagher’s recent book about Romania and its accession to the EU – reminding us all how skilfully, for 20 years, the political class has been able to resist external reform exhortations, drawing on the collective skills the country’s elites have developed over the generations in minimising external efforts at control or influence - whether from Moscow or Constantinople. And, of the other countries I know well, a recent report on Azerbaijan and article on Uzbekistan remind us how many traditional power structures have been able to maintain themselves.
I left the discussion with three draft questions -
• what advice would I give anyone looking to undertake real reform of such kleptocracies as Romania or Azerbaizan?
• How can such people be encouraged - what examples can we offer of government reform programmes actually making a difference?
• How can the effort to ensure good government be sustained in such countries – given the strength of financial and commercial systems and the iron law of oligrachy?

We have to face the possibility that technical assistance in these countries does little more than give the younger political elite a different political vocabulary to use in their grab for power. An interesting book I was able to download recently from the World Bank site Governance Reforms under real world conditions is written around the sorts of questions we consultants deal with on a daily basis -
1. How do we build broad coalitions of influentials in favour of change? What do we do about powerful vested interests?
2. How do we help reformers transform indifferent, or even hostile, public opinion into support for reform objectives?
3. How do we instigate citizen demand for good governance and accountability to sustain governance reform?
The paper by Matthew Andrews which starts part 2 of the book weaves a very good theory around 3 words – acceptance, authority and ability.

Is there acceptance of the need for change and reform?
• of the specific reform idea?
• of the monetary costs for reform?
• of the social costs for reformers?
• within the incentive fabric of the organization (not just with individuals)?

Is there authority:
• does legislation allow people to challenge the status quo and initiate reform?
• do formal organizational structures and rules allow reformers to do what is needed?
• do informal organizational norms allow reformers to do what needs to be done?

Is there ability: are there enough people, with appropriate skills,
• to conceptualize and implement the reform?
• is technology sufficient?
• are there appropriate information sources to help conceptualize, plan, implement, and institutionalize the reform?

A diagram shows that each of these plays a different role at the 4 stages of conceptualisation, initiation, transition and institutionalisation and that it is the space of overlapping circles that the opportunity for change occurs. “Reform space”, at the intersection of acceptance, authority, and ability, determines how much can be achieved. However the short para headed - Individual champions matter less than networks – was the one that hit nerves.

The individual who connects nodes is the key to the network but is often not the one who has the technical idea or who is called the reform champion. His or her skill lies in the ability to bridge relational boundaries and to bring people together. Development is fostered in the presence of robust networks with skilled connectors acting at their heart.

My mind was taken back almost 30 years when, as the guy in charge of Strathclyde Region’s strategy to combat deprivation but using my academic role, I established what I called the urban change network and brought together once a month a diverse collection of officials and councillors of different councils in the West of Scotland, academics and NGO people to explore how we could extend our understanding of what we were dealing with – and how our policies might make more impact. It was, I think, the single most effective thing I ever did. I still have the tapes of some of the discussions – one, for example, led by Professor Lewis Gunn on issues of implementation!
A few years back, I developed for the lectures I gave to middle managers in these kleptomanic states what I called an “opportunistic” theory of change –

• “Windows of opportunity present themselves - from outside the organization, in crises, pressure from below
• reformers have to be technically prepared, inspire confidence – and able to seize and direct the opportunity
• Others have to have a reason to follow
• the new ways of behaving have to be formalized in new structures
Laws, regulations and other policy tools will work if there are enough people who want them to succeed. And such people do exist. They can be found in Parliaments (even in tame and fixed parliaments, there are individual respected MPs impatient for reform); Ministries of Finance; have an interest in policy coherence; NGOs; Younger generation – particularly in academia, policy shops and the media
The question is how they can become a catalytic force for change – and what is the legitimate role in this of donors?”
I have the weekend to see if I have anything to offer the next NISPAcee Conference which takes place in may just down the road - at Varna on the Black Sea. Since delivering the critical paper on TA in 2006, they have actually set up a working group on this issue and I really should do a follow up paper. But what?

Vegetable markets

Vegetable markets are always good at this time of year – but Bulgarian and Romanian ones particularly so with the richness of their produce shown at best in the sunny, blue skies. I’m just back from a trip to the new Obor market which lays the products out according to their county (Judet) of origin. The cauliflowers were particularly superb – and even brocoli so cheap. Bucharest markets, of course, are no match for the Tashkent ones – with their prestigious rows of nuts and spices - let alone the pickled delicacies offered by the Korean women whose families were stranded there (and in Kyrgyzstan) decades ago by Stalin. And it is Bulgarian vegetables which are, rightly, famed here for their superiority (with the plain between Georgiu and Bucharest being populated by Bulgarian vegetable growers). The year I spent in Sofia I lost all my bad cholestorol thanks to the vegetable regime I had – if it was too early for their superb large tomatoes (threatened, I’m told, by EU regulations) and leeks, then Turkish and Greek vegetables rolled up easily from over the borders).
Sofia, in my view, should be one of the pin-ups of the slow food movement. The modest grid-iron system which is its centre developed after the 2nd WW bombing; has kept cars in their place; and created small spaces which old and young alike have been able to use to pursue their dreams – whether shops where they sell the clothes they design themselves, micro art galleries, tobacco, wine cellars . Only in Sofia and Tashkent could I boast my own wine merchant – in Sofia a tiny step-down cellar on Bvd Stambouslska which had a few barrels and cases of select wine at such reasonable prices (in Tashkent a medical doctor who was experimenting in Pashkent – an hour’s drive from Tashkent – with mountain herbs and wines and brought bottles of the latter to me weekly to taste). Perhaps, however, I have now at last found one here in Romania. Although the area around the Bucuresti Gara de Nord has various wine shops with wine from the barrel, none compares with the small wine cellar I found recently in Rasnov (between Brasov and Fundata). They offer wines from my favourite area – Dealul Mare – just north of Ploiesti – and the dry whites and reds are quite spectacular at less than 2 euros a litre)
The open market in central Sofia (down from the mosque and synagogue) is in a really down-at-heel area which I feel will soon spring up again like the some of the old Viennese market squares I saw 20 years ago. Unlike Bucharest, it has quite a few Arab shops where incredible ingredients can be bought. One of the other (many) delights of Sofia are the serious coffee-drinking cafes (particularly the smoking one behind the National Art Gallery) – or of the sight of people carrying their coffee in the street. I have never been a smoker – but I feel that the anti-smoking drive has gone too far!
One final comment about vegetables. I remember very vividly from my childhood my mother’s jam-making. It is something which I therefore respect – and which I am so pleased to see continued here in Romania. At this time of the year it is something which Daniela (who normally leaves the cooking to me) spends time on. As she says, it is one of the ways her parents kept the family alive in winter. It reminds me of one of the jokes I read in the Ben Lewis book on Hammer and Tickle I am now reading – “why was Ceaucescu particularly keen on the first May celebrations?” Because he wanted to see how many Romanians had survived the winter!
And, while we're on the subject of agriculture, here is an excellent post

One less good man in Romania

Romania lost this week someone it can ill-afford to lose – Ion Olteanu – whom I first met 15 (?) years ago in a small office in the prestigious Office of Government just round the corner at Piata Victoreii. He had been made a State Secretary - with a background not in politics or civil service but in philosophy and the voluntary sector. Indeed he was one of the founding fathers of the real aspects of that sector here – with a strong commitment to help younger people get involved in politics. Establishing youth parliaments in various parts of the country was very much his life – with all the European networking and fund-raising that involved. And his job in the Government Office was to help the government sector understand how to dialogue with and use properly the skills and energy of the voluntary sector. After a few years, he returned to full-time work with youth – with all the minimal finance that gave. To visit the family house was always amazing – with the rooms bulging with files, visitors and – open friendship.
A heavy smoker, he was diagnosed two years ago with lung cancer – but continued to the end to work. And we never heard any complaint.
We never appreciate our friends sufficiently – until they are gone. May God forgive us – and give Ion the mix of serenity and philosophical exchange which he would want and which he deserves!

The Russians are coming

I have warned that the combination of Bucharest and the small flat is not conducive to thought and blogging. My first day back was spent cooking, arguing and browsing the bookshops – and a small art gallery. This morning I was diverted from the auction which was at 11.00 to one of the films in the special Russian film festival (under the title Vin Rusii) being held here. Days of Eclipse (made in 1988 by Alexandr Sokorov) is one of the most stunning films I have ever seen. Shot essentially in sepia (with occasional colour) and with an amazing soundtrack of asian and western music (fusing in the last few minutes of its 2 hour duration, it is based in the a village in rural Tajikistan – showing (in the words of the Strictly Film School website on which I now draw) “an unassimilated culture foundering in the vacuum of an imposed, meaningless, ritualized order”.

The reluctant witness to this soul-sapping, Dante-esque existential limbo is the young, idealistic physician Malyanov (Aleksei Ananishnov) who, at the instigation of the government in its push to modernize the rural Asiatic territories, relocated from Gorky in order to set up a clinic in the village. Ethnically and linguistically unassimilated into the local culture (and whose advice and medical practice are largely ignored by the impoverished villagers), his limited interaction with the outside world is relegated to the company of other kindred exiles: his suicidal neighbor, an underemployed engineer demoralized by the futility of his unrealized plans and who has been occupying his time by writing journals that no one else reads (a ritual that is paralleled in Malyanov's own perpetual typing of unsubmitted reports to pass the time); his estranged sister who questions his determination in continuing his practice in the village despite the profound isolation and disappointment of his empty, mind-numbing station; a cherubic, lost boy (who may have been abandoned or ran away from home out of hunger or abuse) who insinuates himself into Malyanov's care; his aimless and increasingly paranoid friend who continues to bear the residual psychological scars of generational trauma after his parents were driven from Russia during the Stalinist purges.

Sokorov is apparently one of the heirs of Tarkovsky – one of whose films I hope to see tomorrow. And such Directors knock not only all American but most European Directors into a cocked hat (admittedly I remain so impressed by Tree of the Wooden Clogs that I have managed to get a copy now for Sirnea). The film was not only monochrome but very poor quality; the actors for the most part unknown; and the scenes of poverty (and imbecility) quite distressing – and yet the totality was riveting.

A good discussion about some books on the Chinese future

competing elites, confucianism and group-grid theory

Yesterday’s post made the point that the UK budget cuts of 81 billion pounds over the next 4 years are as much ideological as financial in intent. Colin Talbot’s Whitehall Watch makes two important points – first that welfare, defence and the criminal justive system have taken the brunt of the cuts rather than education or health .
And, second, the extent too which government leaders have reneged on what they promised during the April election campaign eg on student fees.

How far we need to cut is the really big issue that has been obscured by the ‘how fast’ cyclical debate and to which we still don’t have a full answer. Nick Clegg and other have been emphasising the four-year Spending Plan (up to 2014-15) only takes public spending down to 41% of GDP, the same of New Labour’s proportion in 2006. True, but that’s already 2% points below the 50-year average (43%) and more to the point the Government plans are still headed downwards after 2014-15. They are planning to cut still further in 2015-16, even after they have balanced the books, stripping out another £15bn or so of public spending and taking us down to under 40% of GDP. How much further do they want to go is the real question? Are we heading for a qualitative “rolling back of the frontiers of the state”? So far we don’t have a clear answer, but the indications suggest we are.
If so this does represent a massive change in policy for the Conservatives and their Liberal Democrat allies. It was only three years ago that the Tories were happily signed up to matching Labour’s spending plans (then at about 41% of GDP) and the Lib Dems wanted to spend even more! No talk then about public spending “crowding out” the private sector or the state being too big. Shrinking the size of the state is a perfectly legitimate policy aim – but it is not one anyone voted for at the last Election because none of the three main parties put it forward.

The British public has never had a high opinion of its political masters – and respect sunk to a new low after the revelations of MP expense claims. Now, however, a critical link has been blown away from the chain of argument for representative democracy. When you promise several things in manifestos and campaign statements and then do the opposite only a few months later (with no changes in conditions to be able to use as justification) then you have destroyed the basis for political legitimacy. Now we have at last, in the full light of day, the Schumpeterian system of democracy – one of „competing elites”. The role of the unwashed public is simply to choose (on whatever basis – looks or trust) who will govern us – not in any way to influence what they will subsequently do. The one problem in such a political system that the elites then have no real legitimacy – ie no reason to expect us to obey them – as the French (and indeed Chinese) have long recognised with their traditions of popular mobilisation and government retreats.
Seen in this light, differences between Chinese and most western systems relate less to the operation of the formal political system than to the issue of freedom of citizen and media expression. Most European governments are coalitions of parties (in which policies are hammered out in secrecy after elections). And the monopoly Chinese communist party has 75 million members after all. Political parties are simply the mechanism for selecting leaders who then negotiate policies (within adminstrative, financial and political constraints which are fairly similar everywhere). I have to confess some growing sympathy for the Confucian idea of leadership selection discussed by Daniel A Bell – whereby they are formally groomed according to clear criteria. At the moment, political leadership is subject to the „accidental”or „fatalist” principle (to use the language of grid-group theory; for example, noone designed George W Bush – he just emerged from a tortuous process and series of accidental events! Confucianism uses a more deliberative and hierarchical process to try to select leaders who are judges to have the qualities reckoned to be needed for leadership. As someone with strong anarchistic leanings, I should be drawn more to the fatalist school – but I simply don’t like the results!
The real difference between systems seems in fact to be how openly critical the public and the media are allowed to be – and this has got 2 dimensions. First the amount of actual choice on offer in the media (very limited in the USA where all media channels are basically owned by 4 companies); and, second, the consequences of adopting dissent positions (very harsh in China).