03 March 2009

Week 10.09

Tendring Topics………….on Line

The Financial Crisis

Being a prophet of doom, as I have tended to be throughout the past year is a pretty thankless role. Either you’re discredited because your warnings of disaster have proved to be false alarms, or your prophecies have turned out to be all too true and you yourself may well be caught up in the disasters that you have foreseen.

As I had suggested was likely, 40,000 families, who had imagined that they were ‘home owners’,were dispossessed last year, and the number of unemployed is about 2 million and rising. This time too, the unemployed seem to include many people at lower and middle management level, much where I had been during my years of local government service, rather than largely unskilled manual workers. I haven’t yet been seriously affected but I take no pleasure in other people’s misfortunes. I can imagine all too well how awful it must be to be without a job. To lose a home as well, on which all your future hopes had been pinned and on which you had already spent every bit as much as (perhaps rather more than!) you could afford, must surely be the final straw!

I feel particularly sorry for some folk who hadn’t attempted to get on the home ownership ladder but had been content to rent their homes and had paid their rent regularly when it became due. To their dismay they find themselves having to get out because their landlords were not actually owners but tenants or investment-home-buyers themselves who had failed to keep up their payments! I hadn’t even thought of that happening.

Way back in 1956 Heather and I did manage to take our first step towards home ownership. With a guarantee from Clacton Urban District Council we succeeded in getting a ninety-five percent mortgage to buy our bungalow in Dudley Road. One hundred percent mortgages were unheard of in those days and raising that last five percent (plus the inevitable expenses of moving into a new unfurnished home!) was a real struggle. We had been married for ten years and, although we had no debts, neither had we any worthwhile savings. In the end we sold Heather’s engagement ring to make up the sum. It was a single diamond in a square setting that I had bought with a substantial chunk of my saved-up army pay when I returned from German captivity in 1945.

I find it less than inspiring when I hear spokesmen for the New Labour Government and for the Conservative Opposition being wise after the event and urging ‘responsible’ lending on the banks and the end of mortgages of one hundred percent or more. They were the very people who vied with each other to remove restrictions on borrowing and free capitalist entrepreneurs for the ‘courageous risk taking’ that would make themselves and the nation wealthy. Nobody mentioned that it was with our money, not their own, that they were taking those risks!

How can the crisis be ended?

Your answer to this question is probably as good as mine, and mine is almost certainly as good as that of the financial experts who are responsible for the present situation. I wasn’t particularly surprised to find that one of the Prime Minister’s Chief Advisers on dealing with the financial crisis had been among the top executives of HBOS. They, of course, have been revealed as among the most irresponsible of a group of financial institutions remarkable for their irresponsibility!

Measures taken by the government don’t seem to have had a great deal of effect so far. We are told that it may be months, or even a year or so, before they take effect. That long-term view is of little interest to those who lost their jobs last week and who, with their families, are facing eviction next week from what they had fondly imagined was their home.

Can the wheels of industry and commerce really be made to turn again only by lubricating them with public money…our money? If so, how should this lubricant be applied? Not, I think, by pouring it into the bottomless pit of the banks; nor is it by handing vast sums to the motor manufacturers to enable them to continue producing even more cars that no one wants to buy.

In the 1930s President Roosevelt began to pull the USA out of its slump with his ‘New Deal’; spending vast sums of money on badly needed public works. President Obama now seems to be following a very similar course. That may well be our way forward too. Here in Britain there is an obvious need for lots of affordable housing. Let’s build those houses and the infrastructure that is need for their support, not in the vain pursuit of the chimera of home ownership for all, but for letting at affordable rents by Local Authorities and Housing Associations.

Then again, we should direct large sums towards the production of clean and renewable energy, and research into new and improved ways of exploiting wind, wave, tidal and solar power. Bring the insulation and draught proofing of our homes up to the best North European standards. Improve our woeful public transport systems. All these measures would provide employment both directly and in ancillary industries and services.

Finally, the government must find some way of reducing the enormous gap in wealth that that exists between Britain’s poor and our super-rich. It is difficult to believe that the plight of the unemployed and the homeless is being taken seriously in a society in which professional footballers are bought and sold (don’t they find that a demeaning process?) for millions of pounds; where the head of a bank whose spectacular failure makes other banks’ losses look like mislaid petty cash, has retired at fifty on an annual pension of nearly three quarters of a million pounds* (his victims, of course, struggle along on job seekers’ allowance!); and where leading members both of the government and of the opposition are prepared to be guests on the luxury yacht of a multi-billionaire. What actually happened while they were on that yacht is less important than the fact that they had accepted its owner’s lavish hospitality. Those who sup with the Devil (or with Mammon) need a very long spoon indeed. There is, as we are frequently being told, ‘no such thing as a free lunch’.

The suggested measures might not only bring the present economic depression to an end but could also lay the foundations of a truly ‘great’ Britain that could proudly lead a politically and economically united Europe along the road to prosperity. Yes, it would result in a national debt that future generations would have to pay….but it should at least ensure that they have a future in which to pay it!

*The government, realizing the extent of public anger at this particular incident is currently making desperate efforts to persuade the gentleman in question to forgo at least part of his enormous pension. They haven’t, so far, succeeded!
Bold
A welcome break!

Everyone needs an occasional break from the daily routine…. and I had a wonderful one last weekend, from 26th February to 1st March. My elder grandson Chris, living and working in Taiwan, had decided to spend a week with his younger brother Nick, living and working in Brussels!

Their Dad my son Pete and daughter-in-law Arlene, invited me to accompany them on a weekend visit to Brussels so that, for a couple of days, we could all be together. Needless to say I was delighted to accept their invitation.

We took Zoe (their elderly boxer dog who now has her own ‘pet passport’) with us and crossed the Channel via the Tunnel’s shuttle service. This was another new experience for me. Cars are driven, nose to tail, onto the shuttle that consists of a series of open-ended freight wagons linked closely together to produce, in effect, a very long mobile garage. Drivers and passengers stay with their vehicles throughout the journey, which in our case was totally uneventful and lasted just half an hour. It is certainly the quickest and simplest way of taking a car to the Continent but, of course, there are no sea views or refreshing breezes. Nor, of course, is there any risk of being sea-sick.




Chris and Zoe the dog renew their friendship in Nick's Brussels' apartment


We spent the afternoon companionably in Nick’s Brussels apartment catching up with family news, and went out to a restaurant for an evening meal.
Dining out in Brussels. Clockwise, grandsons Nick and Chris,myself, Arlene and Pete

Brussels is a city with a multitude of restaurants and they seem always to be well filled. Eating out is taken very seriously indeed and is a leisurely activity about as far removed as you can get from sandwiches in front of the telly, or a ‘burger and fries’ at a MacDonalds! Me? I prefer something somewhere between the two extremes.

Here I am relaxing in my apartment in the Raddison Hotel

Pete, Arlene and I spent two nights at Brussels’ Raddison Hotel where I really discovered how the other half live! My luxurious suite (with comprehensively appointed en suite bathroom) had, among other amenities, a huge ‘built in’ tv set, the screen of which carried a message of personal welcome to me as I entered!

On the Saturday we drove into the Ardennes mountains, the starting point for the ‘Battle of the Bulge’ at the end of 1944 when the German army made its last desperate counter-offensive against the allies. We lunched in a picturesque village high in the mountains and then went on into Luxembourg. In the Grand Duchy’s capital we met and dined with a former colleague and business associate of Nick, and her boy-friend. Once again I was very favourably impressed with the absence of frontiers in today’s mainland Europe. We had no idea when we were in Belgium and when in Luxembourg though, in past times, the defence of those frontiers had cost untold numbers of young lives.

We were reminded of this on the following day when we visited the battlefield of Waterloo, just a few miles outside Brussels. This was an excursion that should be on the programme of everyone visiting Belgium’s capital. It can be enjoyed as much by those with a serious interest in history as by those who have been enthralled by the exploits of Richard (Rifleman to Colonel!) Sharpe on tv, or who have enjoyed Bernard Cornwell’s novels of the fictional hero on which the tv dramas were based!

A unique feature of this battlefield is that it has been strictly conserved by the Belgian government’s veto on any new development within the area. This means that visitors, travelling round the field of battle in a tourist bus are able to see it much as it was on that fateful day in late June 1815; the points from which Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington endeavoured to direct the course of the battle; the area where defensive ‘British squares’ withstood attack after attack of French cavalry, the 'sunken roads' in which the infantry awaited the order to attack, and the woods from which the Prussian army under Marshal Blucher advanced to engage the French flank late in the day. A commentary in English and French is accompanied by the realistic ‘noises off’ of bugle calls, the roar of artillery fire, the thunder of horses hooves and the shouts of their riders and – of course, the screams and moans of the wounded and dying.

Dozens of visitors of all nationalities throng the tourist centre. There were British, French, German and, of course, Belgians. There were film shows and presentations and dozens of books and souvenirs, all relating to the Battle of Waterloo. I bought a facsimile of the edition of ‘The Times’ newspaper which carried a report of ‘Our Glorious Victory over the tyrant Bonaparte!’

I found myself wondering what on earth was the purpose of all the carnage. Was Napoleon really such a cruel tyrant compared with some we have seen more recently? In any case, were the regimes of the nations allied against Napoleon any better? Russia in particular was a cruel autocracy of which a considerable proportion of the population were serfs (in effect slaves, bound to the estate on which they were born). In Britain, offenders, including young children, could be hanged for crimes that today would be considered trivial, and it was to be decades before there was even the pretence of democratic rule. Austria and Prussia were certainly no better. I was reminded of some lines from G.K.Chesterton’s poem The Rolling English Road:

I knew no harm of Bonaparte (and plenty of the Squire!)
And for to kill the Frenchmen I did not much aspire,
But I did bash their bayonets because they came arrayed
To straighten out the rolling road an English drunkard made!

The visit reinforced my conviction that warfare, in the early nineteenth century as in the twentieth and the twenty-first, produced no winners.…….only some who lose more than others.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well Done Ernest, how can anyone think any differently about the current crisis.
John Kay

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