Jimmy Burns's Blog, page 10

My Barca Lament

There is just a week to go before the presidential elections at FC Barcelona, a sporting institution that has played an inseparable and much loved part of my life for many years . And yet I feel so dispassionate about the event, to the point of negativity. As a member of the Barca’s London Penya or fan club, I have failed to volunteer to collect signatures for two of the leading contenders –Joan Laporta and Josep Maria Bartomeu, and I have decided not to exercise my right as a club member to help define the outcome , choosing an option I have always eschewed- abstention.

How is it, you may ask, that I not only squander this rare opportunity to participate in a democratic process involving not just a major football club, but one that since 2003 has been experiencing the most successful results in its 117 year old history?

The simple answer is that I have become increasingly disillusioned with the use Barca has made of its ‘democracy’, and the extent to which its long enduring mythology of ethical rectitude and sportsmanship – summed up in the slogan ‘mes que un club’- more than a club , have become somewhat tainted.

To recap. Back in 2003, I was euphoric on the day Joan Laporta, one of the two leading contenders for the presidency, was elected president for the first time. I had befriended Laporta five years earlier when his broad opposition grassroots movement of  fans known as the Blue Elephant was engaged in an audacious attempt to unseat the longest ruling individual in the history of Catalonia , the then president of Barca , Jose Luis Núñez .

A vote of no confidence in 1998 led by Laporta in the Núñez presidency had been narrowly defeated. But it turned out to be the opening salvo of a war of attrition that within five years would see the disappearance of Núñez and most of his key cohorts from the Nou Camp-including his deputy Joan Gaspart who briefly succeeded him-and their replacement as president by Laporta.

In my book Barca, A People’s Passion published for the first time in 1999 I exposed Núñez as a ruthless bully, a construction magnate who had made a fortune destroying historic buildings and speculating on dubious new property developments. It would take more than another decade before Núñez had criminal charges brought against him . He is now serving a prison sentence.

By contrast , Laporta went on to secure the loyalty of many Barca fans, presiding over several seasons of wonderfully entertaining football, unrivalled in its skill and vision, from the excitement of Ronaldinho and the young Messi’s early days with the club through to the glory days of when Barca became the first Spanish club to win the treble in Guardiola’s first season in charge with the best club team in the history of football.

But just two years into his presidency, after a faltering start in football result terms, Laporta’s reputation suffered its first set-back when the Spanish press published documents showing that Alejandro Echevarría, a club director and the president’s brother-in-law, had until recently been a leading trustee of the Francisco Franco foundation, set up by the dictator’s family to honour his memory. Echevarria resigned from the club ,leaving Laporta´s credibility tarnished given that he had earlier insisted his brother-in-law had never been a member of the Franco foundation.

Deepening controversy from allegations of paranoid misuse of private detectives to spy on opponents to reports of wild orgiastic parties provoked growing growing tension between Laporta and his own executive board leading to highly publicised resignations including that of his original running mate and deputy Sandro Rosell .

After himself surviving a motion of no confidence by members in June 2008, Laporta stayed on as president for another two years . He was succeeded by Rosell who went on to try, unsuccessfully,  to have Laporta and some of the more loyal members of his team heavily fined and jailed for alleged financial mismanagement of club funds . For his part Laporta continues to support an Independent Catalunya while recently defining Barca as a club that is “Catalan, Spanish, and European , where all creeds co-exist but where what one has to do is preserve the Catalan roots.”

I would like to believe that Laporta is a democrat and true cule who loves the beautiful game , even if a bit of an old rogue, but am I wrong in thinking there is a potentially divisive nationalist populist and demagogue lurking there too? Reassure me, it’s not so, Joan.

Yet Laporta is not the only candidate that leaves me so far underimpressed. Rosell, no political animal but a person with controversial business credentials, himself eventually stepped down after facing increasing questions over his handling of Neymar’s transfer which Spain’s inland revenue suspected of involving a tax dodge. This has left the club since last year under the presidency of Rosell’s former deputy and close ally Josep Maria Bartomeu who has now merged as  the front-runner, ahead of Laporta,  in the current campaign.

Bartomeu’s presidential first season has seen Barca win another treble while pursuing a business strategy focused on the club’s partnership with Nike and Qatar and an all-powerful marketing department. The presence of home grown talent moulded by the youth academy has diminished, and the creative midfield which had Xavi as the team’s pivotal figure has made way tactically to an attacking trio of foreign superstars, with Messi- unquestionably the best player world , an essential element in Barca’s success last season.

Call me an unreconstructed nostalgic but I miss talent from the youth  academy La Massia, the team spirit, the choreography , the poetry in motion, created in mid-field , that characterised the best of the Guardiola era, and I feel gutted that Xavi has ended up in Qatar which I feel already has far too great an influence on Barca, and world football generally. Arguably Barca’ s organisation needs to become less political and more business-like , but it needs to be careful not to get rid of those values that lie behind its claim to being more than just another big football club , bent only on making as much money as possible, never mind the means or the outcome.

Without waiting for the election, but hoping to secure it, despite still under investigation along with Rosell , for the Neymar deal, Bartomeu has unveiled the club’s big summer signing Arda Turan following his euros34m transfer from Atlético Madrid. I have no reason to doubt that this is the real figure- and he is the right player for Barca- or have I? Was Neymar worth all the wheeling and dealing?  I remain unconvinced.

So given the choice between Laporta and Bartomeu I feel I am between a rock and a hard, disconcertingly dispassionate. However I have yet to lose my faith . I want to believe that glory days are still ahead and that Barca can regain its credibility as a model of true sportsmanship, on and off the field. So watch this space.

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Saving Battersea Park

Battersea Park is not only the jewel in the crown of Wandsworth Council which is responsible , on behalf of rate payers, for its management and care , but also one of London’s most historic, and best loved green spaces, south of the River but easily accessible from west and east London, and just across two Bridges, from Chelsea and Kensington and all points north.

The park has been part of my conscious life as a writer, journalist, local resident, and London citizen, for over fifty years. I remember as a child just how magical my first walks were amidst the water-fountains, and lakes, and trees walks, and feeling in awe of the variety of birds just a few yards away from the huge silent majesty of the Thames as it its tide swelled and flowed between Chelsea and Albert Bridges.

Later the Park drew me into a broader sense of community and a sense of the common good as I saw the role it could play in acting as a necessary check to the unbridled market forces of the Thatcher years, with rising property prices changing the landscape and demography of surrounding streets .

In the mid 1980’s I was a member of a small group of local residents that taking a cue from similar initiatives in other London green spaces from Holland Park to Kew, founded The Friends of Battersea Park as a registered charity with a strong sense of conviction that what gave this part if London its special character should not be left to the whims of developers, entrepreneurs, and partisan political interests.

The Friends over the years has grown as an organisation by sticking to its founding principles to preserve the Park as an oasis of tranquility where users can rest, play and appreciate nature. It has raised funds and entered into a constructive partnership with the local Council to ensure that the Park is not only protected but improved. We have new planted trees, replaced broken or dead ones, helped monitor and protect the park’s varied wild life, and turned previous areas of waste ground in the park into magnificent nature reserves, like the Winter Garden.

So I know I am not alone in being appalled by the way both the Council and Mayor Boris Johnson have allowed themselves to be seduced into believing –of having us believe- that this weekend’s  Formula E-racing car event in Battersea Park will be good for the Park, good for London and good for the future of mankind.

I am told the event is a sell-out. I am also not alone in having been offered free tickets and turning them down.No doubt it will appeal to car racing fanatics and other who rarely if at all have ever used the Park and who simply see this as a fun weekend , much as they might go and see an air show, or a rock concert, or some military pageant or follow Top Gear on TV.

But it is regular park users- young parents, toddlers , joggers , dog walkers, old age pensioners, and all looking for peace and quiet from the stress of urban life, in harmony with nature — who have had their lives already disrupted over the last two weeks-a particularly special season for walking, playing, meditating and appreciating nature’s development. Two weeks ago large swathes of the park were sectioned off prior to an invasion by an army of contractors that was required to install safety fencing and other temporary buildings needed to meet –irony of ironies- health and safety standards. Lorries, heavy-lifting machinery, concrete blocks, scaffolding, security gates , have turned the Park into something it was never created for-a grand prix track- or something pretending to be one, no doubt with accompanying loud music, and token celebrities on the day.

Lets not kid ourselves any longer. The evidence is there. For sheer scale and encroachment over time, never in its history has Battersea Park been subjected to such a plundering.

In addition to the extended build-up, which has excluded the public from their normal uses of the park, both before, during and after this ticketed event one of London’s most popular public parks will be closed to those who use it on a daily basis for a further five days. In its wisdom Wandsworth Council steam rolled through local objections giving the event its blessing on the grounds that it needs the undisclosed money being paid it by the organisers while refusing to tell the public how much ,if any of this money will be spent in protecting and improving our appreciation of nature and our ticket-free leisure in the park itself. Judging by the holes already appearing in the tarmac and the damaged grass, the repairs alone post-event should require a fair sum.

But the point is that we should never have allowed this to happen, not she it ever hapen again.  The future of the Park lies not in invasions of this kind but in responsible co-stewardship and a recognition of the intangible benefits the park provides in terms  of health and social cohesion.

I cannot but agree with Evening Standard’s Andrew Neather who in the newspaper on June 19th described this as “just the most egregious example of a growing trend: the pimping out of London’s parks to raise cash.” As was pointed out in an admiral able letter to the Council by the Friends’ chairman Frances Radcliff , during the committee stages leading up to approval of the event the Council showed extraordinary lack of detail associated with the project. The Committee paper refers to the first race ‘having been successfully held in Beijing” without mentioning the spectacular crash between the two leading cars or defining the criteria for measuring success. No attempt is made to the considerable cost in staff time to the Council in terms of dealing with this proposal, the ‘income arising from the scheme’ is unquantified, and there is no mention of money being ring-fenced to benefit Battersea Park. Other information we should demand is whether other parks and open spaces were approached by the organisers and if so why was the project turned down before it came to Battersea?

And what about the environmental impact? Much to the chagrin of their private managment , the Park’s much loved Children’s Zoo has been forced to close for a week under advice by an independent veterinary inspector that it should take precautions to safe guard the welfare of its animals throughout the peak period of disruption. Are similar precautions being taken to safeguard the birds and other animals that roam freely in this park? We need to know.

And while we are on the issue of the planet we inhabit, the argument that Formula E racing is making a contribution to a better future-by raising awareness of less polluting forms of transport is spurious. There are enough hybrid cars and electric cars circulating on the streets of London for people to have made their mind up long ago about whether or not they should invest in one of them, or opt for a noisy petrol guzzling 4X4 . In fact many Londoners cycle to work through the Park every day, or just use public transport. I can hardly see them using a racing car to get around town, however ‘e’ packaged. God forbid.

The fact is that the  unique beauty of Battersea Park as a priceless green space will be irrevocably destroyed if this hugely disruptive event is allowed to go on annually over the next five years. Pope Francis would for one I believe disagree profoundly with those arguing it is a good thing- and see this event for what it is- part of an essentially destructive mind-set that elevates the pursuit of profit above every other consideration. His encyclical published last week should inspire users of Battersea Park to defend the wonders of nature, not to abuse them. Let’s hope that Wandsworth Council is called to its senses by the local outrage that this event has been provoking and invokes a contract break clause that cancells the next four years of Formula-E hell on earth. This event must never be repeated in Battersea Park .

• Jimmy Burns is a journalist and author. His book on Pope Francis: Pope of Good Promise is published in September.

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Serrat at The Barbican

Serrat, thanks for the reunion

It was around 1984 that I went to my first a concert by Joan Manuel Serrat. Amid tears and songs,  I hugged my wife and those around us. At that time we were experiencing the terminal decline of the military regime in Argentina, the junta that had disappeared after about 9,000 people before provoking a grotesque war with Britain in the Falklands – Two bald men fighting over a comb, said the old Borges.

The singer-songer writer Serrat  wanted to see the democracy in Latin American countries that he and others had won in Spain-a transition from dictatorship to parliament- which could express aloud the most profound and universal culture of the Hispanic people. The poems in words and music of Hernández and Machado filled the Buenos Aires theatre with a tremendous force of both resistance and hope, and we knew that the barracks were trembling as was the presidential Casa Rosada.

Later when I began to write books about the politics of football in the history of Spain, I mentioned Serrat, born in the Poble Sec of Barcelona to a woman from Aragon, in Barca, a book about FC Barcelona, recalling his emblemic song about the victory of the Five Cups and the legendary quintet formed by Kubala, Basora, Cesar Moreno, and Manchon.

Last Friday, nearly a a week after Barca won the treble in Berlin, I caught up again with Serrat in a concert he gave at the Barbican in London. This London cultural center outwardly is built like a bunker which makes the inner experience that much sweeter. The concert hall was intimate enough to a gig that was part farewell, part celebration. Serrat long ago ditched in his live performances the large orchestra and overproduction that characterized his recordings in the 1970’s. On Friday only five musicians were with him on stage, all veterans, except for a younger guitarist.

The small set allowed the public to focus more on the personality of Serrat, a great actor as well as singer who moves well around the stage and engages with his audience. But the set also exposed his fragility for at the age of 72 his voice is not what it was. On the night he was only just getting over a threat infection. Not that Serrat shows weakness or coldness. On the contrary, he maintains a great sense of humor and a great resistance to give up.

A few weeks ago, under orders of his doctor, he had to cancel a concert in Catalunya for the problems suffered in his throat but in London he was seen constantly drinking water with honey. He evidently wanted to keep going and give us everything that he had to give , and more . He showed, as always, a Quixotic nobility, this great fighter, dreamer, and humanist.

As it should be, since it was announced as a Disordered Anthology of work spanning half a century, the concert did not lack the most beloved songs , some of them, like Por Que Te Quiero , in a more rhythmic updated version, to give them new life, others like Los Enanos Locos, as always, a necessary memory. Other songs, including poems by Machado and Hernandez filled the room with a sense of human solidarity. Nor did he forget our Latin American brothers and sisters, in a lesser known song about the exploitation of marginalized children. Again we were there, as the poet would say, ‘blow by blow’ , ‘paving the way with our walk’ , crying out for Liberty, some of us with open arms and clenched fists.

When it seemed that Serrat, half exhausted, was about to leave us, the audience-mostly Spanish and Latin American and Hispanic-gave Serrat a standing ovation, amid tears and encores, and he sang Lucia- the song that taught many of us how to love. During more than two hours, this singer as much Catalan as Spanish, a universal man, filled the warm night of London with nostalgia and future, with more joy than sadness, proclaiming, towards the end, that even for those of us getting old, as he sang, ‘this will be a great day. ” And so it was.

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Serrat en Londres

Era alrededor del 1984 que estuve por primera vez en  un concierto de Joan Manuel Serrat entre lágrimas y cantos, acompañando cada palabra y letra que recitaba, abrazado con mi mujer y con los que nos rodeaban. En esa época vivíamos la decadencia terminal del régimen militar en Argentina, ese junta que había hecho desparecer a unos 9,000 para luego provocar una guerra esperpéntica con el Reino Unido en las Islas Malvinas – dos calvos luchando por un peine, decía el viejo Borges.

El Serrat de esa época quería ver la misma democracia en los países Latino Americanos que él y otros habían ganado en España-un transición de dictadura a parlamento donde una vez más se podía expresar en voz alta la cultura más profunda y universal del pueblo hispano. Los poemas en letra y música de Machado y Hernández ese día llenaron el teatro porteño con una fuerza tremenda tanto de resistencia como de esperanza, y sabíamos que los cuarteles temblaban igual que La Casa Rosada.

Más tarde cuando empecé a dedicarme a escribir sobre el cargo político del futbol en la historia de España , no dude en hablar de Serrat, de madre Aragonesa , que nació en el Poble Sec de Barcelona, en un libro que saque sobre el Barca, recordando su canción emblemita sobre la victoria de la Cinco Copas y ese quinteto legendario formado por Kubala, Basora, Cesar, Moreno, y Manchón.

Este viernes , casi una semana después de que el Barca consiguió el triplete en Berlín, me reencontré con Serrat en el concierto que dio en el Barbican de la capital Británica. Este centro cultural Londinense por fuera parece un bunker para luego hacer la experiencia interior todo lo más dulce. La sala era lo suficiente intima para sentirse próximo a un recital tenía algo de despedida además de celebración. Serrat ya hace mucho tiempo no se rodea con la orchesta que le reforzaba en los estudios de grabación a partir del LP de los setenta Mediterráneo. Son solo cinco músicos los que estaban con él en el escenario , la mayoría amigos de casi toda su vida- solo el guitarrista, con aspecto y actitud de más joven, hacía de contrapunte.

El reducido equipo musical no solo deja que el público se centre más en la figura y personalidad de Serrat –alguien que se mueve bien, que actúa, que tiene ‘tablas’- sino que también expone su fragilidad ya que a sus 72 años la voz no es lo que era- sufre de falta de fuerza, y se le ve luchando para proyectar la canción con el temblor musical y resonancia que le caracterizaba de más joven.

No es que Serrat muestra flaqueza o frialdad. Al contrario, mantiene un gran sentido de humor y una gran resistencia a rendirse . Hace pocas semanas, bajo órdenes de su médico, tuvo que cancelar un concierto en Catalunya por los problemas que sufría con su garganta pero en Londres se le vio constantemente bebiendo agua con miel para seguir adelante y darnos todo lo que encontraba para darnos, y más. Mostro , como siempre, una nobleza ciertamente Quijotesca, de gran luchador, de gran soñador , de gran humanista.

Como tenía que ser , ya que se había anunciado como una Antología Desordenada a través de cincuenta años, no faltaron las canciones más queridas por un público mayor, algunas de ellas, como Porque te Quiero, en una versión actualizada, más rítmica, para darlas nueva vida , otras como Esos Locos Bajitos, igual que siempre, como una memoria necesaria. Las demás canciones, entre ellas los poemas cantados de Machado y Hernández llegaron a llenar la sala con un gran sentido de solidaridad humana . Y para no olvidar a los hermanos Latino Americanos, allí estaba la denuncia d le explotación de los niños marginados. Un vez más íbamos golpe a golpe, haciendo camino al caminar, una vez más cantábamos a La Libertad, algunos de nosotros con los brazos abiertos o empuñados, aunque ya bastante alejados de los populismos chavistas.

Cuando parecía que Serrat, ya medio agotado, estaba a punto de dejarnos, el público-en su mayoría hispanos e hispanoamericanos-aplaudieron , ya de pie, con toda su alma, entre lágrimas y cantos , y él nos cantó Lucia- con la cual tantos de nosotros aprendimos a amar. Durante mas de dos horas de canción y charla , tan propios de él, este cantautor tan Catalán como Español, tan hombre universal, lleno la noche calurosa de Londres con nostalgia y futuro, con más alegría que tristeza, proclamando, hacia el final, que hasta los que nos vamos poniendo viejos , ‘este va a ser un gran día’ . Y así fue.

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Renewing my Barca membership

Nothing like renewing one’s FC Barcelona membership card-as I’ve just done – at the Camp Nou-to focus one’s mind.

Membership does not come cheap and in the many years of being a cule  I haven’t exactly gained much benefit from it. Phones lines are usually busy so it is almost impossible to communicate, let alone vote from London where I live for much of the year. Not being a techo geek, I find the membership section of the Barca website difficult to navigate, and I’ve never managed to get a ticket using my card, finding it easier to see matches as a guest of a friend , or as a journalist , or -if I am lucky with the draw- with fellow cules from my beloved Penya Blaurana London.

In fairness, going straight to Barca’s  revamped ‘social section’ offices is to encounter Catalan courteousness and efficiency at its best. I was in an out in fifteen minutes, leaving me with some spare time to absorb my surroundings on a day when thankfully the invasion of tourists was not huge.

The Camp Now has changed quite a bit since I really got know it back in the late 1990’s while researching the first edition of my book Barca: A People’s Passion the first  book published in English on the history and politics of the club.

The exhibit of the old bus that used to take the team round Spain in the 40’s and 50’s is no longer  near the entrance to the stadium but parked more discreetly near the old stone building where once the youth academy used to be. The statue to the stadium’s founder Miro Sans , and of the legend of the 50’s Kubala have been , by contrast, upgraded and are in pride of place , and there is great museum showing that this a club that has not lost a sense of pride in its history.

Meanwhile the mega store is bigger that ever , and Qatar’s promotion as a main sponsor is pervasive, if not intrusive. This is a a multinational commercial operation that still boasts a certain distinction as a worldwide community of members, and ordinary fans that feel drawn to a value system of democracy , integrity, and the best possible football as an art form.

This a a club that while struggling to live up up its reputation as ‘mes que un club’, with its lingering unresolved questions over non-payment of taxes and less than transparent transfer deals, still produces, on more match days than not, the most brilliant football in the world- and that alone makes it worth it, hanging on to my membership card- a symbol of loyalty, as much as enduring, unconditional love.

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The privilege of being a Barca fan

Let me honest. It’s been a long time since I felt as proud of being a Barca fan as tonight when FC Barcelona beat Bayern Munich 3-0.

This was a game played by two great sides, charged with emotion, pursued with strength, and delivered with grace by the best player in the world that worked his magic a amidst giants of the game.

This was a first leg that should have been a final but will still endure in the memory of any true football fan as a master class, where Pep Guardiola, now a manager of the German champions,  in the end capitulated to the best Barca team effort since he won the Champion’s League with his native Catalan team at Wembley.

It was great to see Bayern and former Real Madrid’s Xavi Alonso be the first to congratulate Messi at the end of the game, a noble veteran saluting the genius poet that created his best lines and brought real joy back to the Nou Camp.

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I will vote Labour tomorrow

No I don’t think Ed Milliband is a natural leader- but he has worked hard to be taken more seriously and deserves greater respect than the misinformation and crude insults launched at him during the campaign by bigots- the lie that having more Scot nats in the UK parliament and voting on certain issues with Labour will lead to a disintegration of the UK (more chance of this happening with a Conservatives in power and pushing for an exit from the EU).

No I don’t think Cameron has been a great prime-minister. He lacks vision and warmth and any real experience of what it’s like to be underprivileged and poor and will be voted on by those who put self-interest before the common good. His government would have provoked more riots on the streets, and wars-had it not been in coalition with a softer partner- and yet I know I am not alone in not really knowing what the Lib Dems really stand for any more and in knowing that Boris is not Winston Churchill.

Yes, my entire heart and soul revolts against UKIP- party essentially of little Englanders at their most prejudiced.

And Yes the Greens deserve to be given the Ministry for the Environment.

And Yes lets tax the non-doms and the mansions, and every pollutant in the land- and improve our social housing, schools, and National Health Service, and sense of respect for human life and nature. I can’t say I feel hugely excited or inspired by the current state of British politics, but Labour will have my vote tomorrow-as a matter of faith.

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The Beauty of Messi

The Beautyof Messi

It was my wife, not a football fan, with me on the night, who summed it all up. “Messi is beautiful.”

Now,  that the player is not exactly adonis, still less a narcissist, we all know. He is short and scraggly, long-nosed, walks with a stoop, and has a tendency to clear his throat by spitting, or on a bad day, seemingly throwing up. Nor does he set you on fire when he speaks, with his squeeky Rosario accent, far less musical and evocative than that of Buenos Aires.

But at his best, his transformed presence on the pitch defies the limitations of his physique, and exteriorises the hidden potential of his creation, in perfect balance of poise and action. At his best Messi touches and plays the ball and moves around the pitch like no other player I know, with an extraordinary sense of anticipation and resolution, with absolute focus and inventiveness of rhythm and shape.Tactics and strategy mould into one , teams become inspired,matches defined. This happened last night in the Camp Nou.

Messi’s utter control of the game showed is his pace and timing. The entire stadium paused whenever he stopped  dead in his tracks to draw opponents to him before swerving and sliding his way through them, leaving them frustrated and with little option than to try and hack him down. He turned Man City’s star players into roughnecks, and turned his team-mates into supportive knights.

This poetry in motion was what made Barca’s second-leg quarter final win over Manchester City at the Camp Nou a particularly memorable occasion. But for the visitors’ heroic goalkeeper Hart, the Man City under impressed,  the English champions outclassed by a Barca that was galvanised by the brilliance of their little big man.

For Barca’s other players,  this was a night of failed opportunities with Jordi Alba, Neymar, and Suarez too easily thwarted in the strikes at goal. Messi failed to hit target with his free-kicks-but this pailed with insignificance compared to his overall performance,for  each Barca attack-and there were many-had Messi involved in its conception. It was not just his assists at goal, but the sheer havoc provoked in Man Ciy’s mid field and defence, whenever he ran with the ball, creating space and endless opportunities for other attacking options . For Messi’s nobility lies in his selflessness.

‘Messi, Mesi, Messi, Messi, ‘ a packed Camp Nou chanted repeatedly through the game. It was that kind of night. Beautiful indeed.

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Why Cervantes should stay in Gibraltar

In this turbulent world we live in, there can be few certainties about what may contribute to a better understanding between the peoples of this earth- but I would personally put language and culture high up on my list- if, that is.  both are freed from the stifling intolerance of politics.

The news that the Spanish government is to close the Instituto Cervantes in Gibraltar is a backward step in term of engagement between British and Spanish people, given the role it had begun to played in helping new generations of Gibraltarians improve their Spanish –together with English, the most popular language in the world- but also as acting as a venue for greater understanding of arts, history and literature of the Hispanic world.

José Manuel Garcia Margallo announced the decision to close the iconic  institute in Gibraltar explaining that there was no need to have such a thing on “what is considered to be Spanish territory”.

The Cervantes Institute was opened on the Rock in 2011 following the historic Cordoba agreement forged by the tripartite forum between the UK, Spain and Gibraltar. But the agreement and subsequent tripartite talks were shelved when the PP government of Mariano Rajoy came to power at the end of 2011.

“To have a Cervantes (Institute) there (in Gibraltar)  is a contradiction in terms,” Margallo told a parliamentary commission on Wednesday in reference to Spain´s sovereignty claims over the territory that sits at its south-western tip. He questioned the need for opening a centre designed to teach Spanish on what “was considered national territory”.

And yet culture and language  in their  most noble and universal expression- and there I would include, by way of example, the plays of Shakespeare as well as Don Quixote, the paintings of Turner and Constable along with those of Goya and Sorolla, the poetry of Robert Burns and TS Eliot along with that of Becquer and Lorca-should be above politics, nationalisms, and territorial claim and counter claim.

Gibraltar’s impressive annual literary festival last autumn generously welcomed Spanish writers and academics alongside British ones. While The Instituto Cervantes was not one of the venues , it could have been, and there was talk of it being invited to participate at this year’s festival. I was told that among the language students at the Cervantes were some of the members of the Gibraltarian administration.

Meanwhile, by way of contrast,  the British Council in Madrid- set up before World War Two by the legendary Anglo-Irish hispanist Walter Starkie- is an enduring example of bicultural and bilingual English-Spanish education, thankfully freed from political interference, which is making an important contribution to preparing new generations of British and Spaniards for work opportunities in a global world. One hopes that such a spirit of human engagement between the peoples of Britain and Spain will prevail ever more widely above and beyond the posturing of politicians in an election year.

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Thugs should have no place in football

Professional football is not just any sport- at its highest reputational level , it is a money-spinning machine , a show-room of celebrity, as well as talent, of dubious politics, and even less morality, and with enormous social impact, for better or for worse.

Players and those who manage them should not be allowed to behave like thugs. Their conduct is one that not only impacts on fans in the stadium, in turn fuelling the most violent and prejuduced attitudes that they may be prone to, but also disrupts domestic life where players are held up as icons by children and fathers.

The behaviour of certain Atletico Madrid players in yesterday’s Copa del Rey tie with FC Barcelona was thuggery of the worst kind, with the hardline home fans an accompanying band, just weeks after their violent clash with visiting fans led to a fatality.

By contrast FC Barcelona , with the team finally finding its compass and playing some of the most brilliant football of the season,and resisting reacting to provocation, was an example worthy of a global following.

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